


Bones of The Reaper

by Dragonsteamfan



Category: Doom (2005), Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-10
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 56,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsteamfan/pseuds/Dragonsteamfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John 'Reaper' Grimm wakes up from a head injury with no memory of the last thirteen years - which means that he has no memory of Leonard 'Bones' McCoy.  When he regains his memory he has to deal with having revealed his past to his two closest friends.  A fill for St_xi kink meme 13 prompt.  The prompter proposed the first chapter which she graciously allowed me to rewrite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: I stumbled upon a Doom/Star Trek 09 crossover and was immediately fascinated by the idea of an immortal Doctor McCoy. So I went and checked out the Doom movie. Can I just say that Karl Urban is a lot hotter than I thought? It’s amazing what make up and character changes can do for an actor.

After reading several fics a few things grabbed my attention. So thank you to:  
Miss_M_Cricket for the title, and Reaper’s instinctive knowledge and the anon poster over at st_xi_kink: part 13 for the adoptable plot bunny that I’ve rewritten as this first chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Star Trek in any of its forms or Doom.

 

BONES OF THE REAPER  
M class planet just outside of Federation space – 1 year post Vulcan’s destruction, 213 years post Olduvai

As the large alien did his best to beat the life out of Doctor Leonard McCoy, his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the pain, he did, but the pain and the danger that he was in was in fact, nothing new to him. It was hardly the first time he’d had his life threatened or the first time someone had tried to kill him, and he couldn’t tell the man about his non-existent slaver boss anyway. He was far more concerned about a letter his sister had recently sent him, one telling him about his five year old daughter.

Jo-Anna McCoy lived in Georgia, on Earth with her mother. She and McCoy had had a whirlwind romance and marriage, which ended in divorce just six years later. Most of the people he had known had discouraged his marriage to Jocelyn, mostly because they were both residents at the time. They knew that the odds of the marriage lasting through the stresses of one of them being a medical resident was unlikely, both of them being residents at the same hospital did not improve them.

McCoy had never told his now ex-wife about his sister, something that he was later grateful for. Samantha had moved to Georgia specifically to watch over her niece and make sure that her brother knew what was happening with his daughter. Spying it might have been, but McCoy was eager for the slightest news of his little girl. Focusing on the letter he never saw the blow that crushed his skull.

Grunting in disgust that he hadn’t been able to make the weakling talk, the alien picked up the body and took it down to the cell where the other two men were being held. Throwing the body on the floor of the cell and taunting the chained up prisoners made him feel a little better, so he left them to contemplate their comrade’s body while he got a meal and a drink. Knowing what was waiting for them would soften them up a bit before he returned to his work.

John Grimm woke instantly, searching for trouble before his eyes even opened. It was a habit that had kept him alive for a long time and he had never had any intention of circumventing it. He was lying on cold dirt floor in a pool of his own blood. At least he thought it was his own blood, as he could feel the cool stickiness of coagulating blood on his skin. He didn’t feel any pain but that was nothing new. He healed so quickly that he only had time to feel it for a brief moment before he fully healed.

There were two men talking above John. For half a second he could almost believe that he was hearing Duke threatening to rip someone in half, but his team was long dead and gone. At least whoever was talking seemed to be upset on his behalf. He’d better let them know that he was alive and kicking. “Don’t bother on my account,” he said as he rolled over. The two men were chained to the wall right above John. The one on the left was Human, blond and blue eyed while the one on the right was a Vulcan, pale and dark. Both had been beaten.

“BONES! You’re ok! I thought they’d killed you!” the young Human man said.

He couldn’t have been much older than The Kid when he’d died. John shook the memory away with the ease of years of practice. “Don’t know any Bones, my name is John Grimm. You can call me Reaper.” He stretched as he stood, covertly checking his physical status. He’d been hurt badly. He could tell both by the amount of blood on his clothes and the tightness of his newly healed muscles. He was wearing a plain pullover shirt and pants, both of which were brown and unmarked, similar to what the other two were wearing.

“So, who are you two?” John asked as he leaned against the opposite wall. The cell looked pretty primitive, no artificial light source and no cameras that he could see. There was a small window high up on the only unoccupied wall, barred with what looked like rebar. The last wall was made up of similar bars with a door that was hardly any sturdier. He should be able to get out when he wanted to.

“Fascinating,” the Vulcan said, peering intently at John. “You resemble our Chief Medical Officer to an astounding degree.” Spock had seen that the man’s boots were of higher manufacture than this primitive world could produce, although he was dressed in the same sort of slave garb that he and the captain had been forced to change into earlier. It would be logical to conclude that this Human male had arrived from off planet at some point.

“We have to find him,” the Human said, almost to himself. “I’m Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation starship Enterprise and this is Mr. Spock. He’s my science officer.” ‘Great, officers,’ Reaper grumbled to himself. Officers were rarely a good sign, especially ones that announced themselves with anything approaching their full name. Nothing of this showed on his face for Kirk or Spock to see. “We were investigating to see if this planet was ready for first contact. How about you?” He too had noticed Reaper’s boots.

Reaper shrugged. He ran his fingers through his hair and wasn’t surprised to find blood, although it was a lot longer than he remembered. He’d been hit in the head pretty hard. Short term memory loss was a common side effect to a head injury, so he wasn’t too worried. “One minute I’m having a drink, the next I’m waking up here,” he said. That much was true, but it also didn’t give out any real information, like the fact that he couldn’t actually get drunk and most drugs didn’t work at all on him, or that he had no idea just how much time had lapsed from that drink to now. Just because he was thrown into the same cell as these guys didn’t mean that they were allies.

“Then logically you must have fallen prey to the slavers who own this compound. Undoubtedly you have somehow angered these men as they would not wish to damage valuable merchandise. How badly are you injured?” Spock asked.

Reaper shrugged. He’d go with what had worked for him in the past with someone who didn’t know him. “I’m not hurt at all. I’m humanoid, not Human. My species heals quickly.” It would also help him later, because there was no way that a normal Human could get out of here the way he could, not that he was sure he was going to let these two live with the knowledge that he had even been here.

“That’s good, but do you think you could get us loose?” Kirk asked, shaking the chains that Spock had seemingly forgotten in his investigative tangents. “Since you aren’t Bones we need to go find where these creeps have him.”

Reaper cocked his head. The kid was annoyed at both of them for going off track, but wasn’t yelling or barking at either of them, a point in his favor. Most of the officers John had served under would have been foaming at the mouth by now wanting to be let loose and to get down to business. Plus, he was worried about his man, which was the mark of a good leader, something Sarge had been before he’d cracked on their last mission. In the end it was simply the fact that if there was any group that John truly detested besides unethical scientists it was slavers that made up his mind for him.

John had taken two steps towards Kirk and Spock when he suddenly froze and turned towards the cell door. A man walked up to the door, looking down and fiddling with the keys on his belt. His other hand held a solid projectile weapon. When he looked up and saw all three men in the cell alive and well, he squeaked and swung his gun up to point it at them. That was enough for Reaper. As Duke had said once so long ago to The Kid, “It’s like this see….If it’s trying to kill you, it’s a threat.” And a deadly threat was to be met with deadly force.

Reaper reached out quicker than anyone there could see, grabbed the end of the gun and pulled, slamming the guard into the bars of the cell. The guard dropped, leaving Reaper in possession of the gun. He finished pulling the gun into the cell, swung it over his shoulder and dropped down to the floor, reaching over to where the guard had dropped the keys.

Unfortunately they were just out of his reach. Rather than make a futile effort to get the keys, John turned to examining the door. It was only held shut with a simple bar and slot lock. He snorted under his breath at the shoddy lock. It wasn’t like someone could open it with bare hands, but if he’d had even the simplest lock pick; it would have been child’s play to get free. As it was, he simply kicked the lock, shattering it at the point where the bar went into the door frame.

This of course rendered the lock useless and the door swung open with the remaining force of John’s blow. He darted out of the cell and checked the guard. Unconscious, with a broken jaw, the man isn’t going anywhere for a while, but John wasn’t named Reaper by his team mates for nothing – he never left an enemy alive, well that and his last name. Like he’d once told his sister, his team mates had been Marines, not poets. He swiftly broke the man’s neck, killing the guard instantly. It’s as clean and painless a death as he could manage under the circumstances.

Reaper patted down the body, quickly confiscating the pistol, second set of keys and knives that he found. Too bad the guy hadn’t been carrying a map. He turned back to the cell to find Kirk staring at him in shock and the Vulcan’s eyebrows attempting to climb off his head. “You are definitely not Doctor McCoy.”

It didn’t bother Reaper that they hadn’t believed him. He’d have reserved judgment too if the guy really looked as close as Spock had said he did. “Never leave a live enemy at your back kids. Nine times out of ten they’ll attack you when you least expect it and it’s a death sentence to any wounded you might have,” he lectured as he unlocked their chains. He didn’t dare pull the chains apart as their fragile wrists could easily be broken in the process.

“Your close resemblance to Doctor McCoy renders your actions quite disturbing. However, your logic is quite sound for an emotional sentient,” Spock told Reaper.

Reaper shrugged again. He was doing that a lot around these two. From what he remembered about Vulcans he thought that was a compliment. “I was a combat medic with a special forces team once upon a time. Like it or not, this is combat because I don’t think that we’re going to be able to just walk out of here, especially if your Doctor McCoy is in anywhere near the condition I was when I was thrown in here.” The three of them looked grimly at each other before Reaper turned and led the way out of the cell, leading with his new gun just like he was on a mission with a couple of newbies.


	2. Chapter 2

Earth – immediately following the massacre on Olduvai

Reaper had been in some messed up situations before, but this one had to have been the worst, if only for the fact that his twin sister was badly injured. Riding up the elevator from the underground UAC facility to the desert surface, he kept telling Samantha that they were almost home and that everything would be alright. It was more than a bit ironic. They had both lost their home when their parents had died on Olduvai and just today they had both lost their homes to Olduvai once more.

They had both learned that home wasn’t a place, but the people you called family with the tragic loss of their parents. Because of his and Sam’s ten year estrangement years later over science and the dangers of their parents’ work they had both been forced to find new homes, new families that had nothing to do with each other. For Sam that had been her fellow scientists and their families stationed on Olduvai. Between the scientists that had been attacked and mutated into monsters and Sarge going insane and killing anything that was still breathing, only Samantha had survived out of all of the UAC people; man, woman, or child it hadn’t mattered. They had all died.

As for John, he had gone into the Marines, becoming a special ops medic for the RRTS. His team mates had been his family. He had lived with them for years, fought with them, laughed with them, cried with them, bled with them and on them, and now the ones who had named him were dead, or as good as. He didn’t know for sure that Sarge was dead. He could only hope. Death had to be better than living as one of those monsters and without your sanity on top of it.

Which brought his thoughts back to where he was now, and something that hadn’t occurred to him before – the brass and the UAC would want to know what had happened and they couldn’t tell anyone about the C24 or that it had succeeded with him where it had failed with everyone else. “Sam,” he said, looking down at the woman he carried. “Wake up Sam. We need to figure something to tell them up top.”

Samantha Grimm had been conscious, just not willing to talk much. Her brother’s deviation from platitudes to a real conversation spurred her to say what she had been thinking about in the part of her mind that hadn’t been focused on survival. “We tell them what Portman said, that a monster got into the facility from somewhere outside.”

Reaper nodded. “We stick to the truth about everything else. It killed some of the scientists and mutated the others.”

“Not about Sarge,” Sam contradicted him. They were almost to the top. “We can’t tell them that you fought him and won. So, he volunteered to blow up the Ark and keep the creatures away from Earth. All of the bodies down here are a biohazard that might mutate anyone who gets anywhere near them. We don’t know how the mutation spreads.”

“Right, and we have to go into quarantine because we don’t know if we might be the next ones to mutate,” John sighed. He really did not want to lie like that, but he didn’t want to end up a lab rat so that some idiot scientist could start the whole thing all over again, and he knew damned well that they would if they had even the slightest hint of what he was now capable of.

Reaper and Sam knew perfectly well how the mutagen spread. Those who had been mutated into monsters could sense those who would also mutate and bit them. John hadn’t been bitten though. He’d gotten his dose of C24 straight from the source, one of the bottles that Sam had taken from Carmack’s lab when they evacuated. She had injected him to save his life when he’d caught a ricochet from his own weapon and was bleeding to death. “How badly did Sarge hurt you?”

“I think he broke my spine,” Sam admitted. “I should be ok otherwise. How about you?”

Reaper looked at the glove on his hand that was under her shoulders. It was ripped from the center to between his two middle fingers. “Physically I’m fine. You were right about that healing thing. It’s almost instant recovery from most injuries. Other than that, I just want to get you to a doctor and then find a hole to bury myself in with a bottle of whiskey.”

“Drink some for me,” Sam told him, knowing that she was likely to be put on drugs that wouldn’t allow her to drink. “I’ll help you drink a case when the doctors let me go.”

The elevator door opened up and Reaper stepped out, right into a circle of weapons. “RRTS 6, handle ID: Reaper with one survivor!” he called out. This had to be the back-up that Portman had called for. “I need medical evac and quarantine immediately! No one goes down into the site and if anything follows us up from down there, kill it and incinerate the body!”

“What the fuck?” one of the Marines asked.

“There’s some kind of mutating shit down there. I don’t know how it passes from person to person, but I think we’re clear. We need to be in quarantine for a minimum of twelve hours just in case. It’s fast, less than an hour from infection to the first symptoms and just over two hours from first symptom to full mutation. It turns people into cannibalistic monsters.” John knew he needed to be blunt to make sure that no one went back down to try and get the data disks that held the research information into C24 that he and Sam had destroyed.

The Marines present all blanched at the idea of mutating into people eating monsters and hurried the two over to an ambulance to be taken back to base. No one got anywhere near them that didn’t have to. The medic that was in the back of the ambulance with them went over both Sam’s condition with Reaper as well as whatever it was that caused the mutations, sending the information ahead to the base.

From the ambulance they went directly to the base infirmary, John to quarantine and Sam to surgery to see what, if anything, could be done about her injuries. Everyone who came near them was wearing blue hazmat suits, the most extreme of the safety suits used for medical emergencies dealing with contagions. They not only covered every square inch of a person’s body, they also had their own air, water and waste handling units. Reaper was glad to see that they were taking him seriously about the threat.

In the end, the doctors went overboard on the quarantine, holding them for forty eight hours total. Not once did Reaper or Sam object as they were held together in the same room. Reaper gave his report through the window of the medical isolation room, going over detail after detail.

“Why don’t you need medical attention soldier?” one suspicious Colonel growled at him several hours into his interrogation.

“I’m the team medic,” Reaper said, tiredly. He’d been answering questions ever since he’d entered quarantine and hadn’t even gotten a chance to clean the blood off of his face. “Most of my time was spent searching for survivors, guarding Sam or treating the wounded until the final push to get out. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not true. Those things, they either killed you or turned you. If one got its claws into you, it was all over.

“I can’t remember how many I killed, but the closest any of them got was two feet except for that one down in the sewers. I hit that one with the butt of my weapon. I was damned lucky. It was reaching back to swing its arms to grab me when I managed to knock it back and shoot it before it could hit me with its claws; once in the head and once in the heart. That was the only way they stayed down.” He trailed off, thinking about Goat and how that monster had gotten the religious fanatic to commit suicide – sacrificing his immortal soul - in order to save his team from the monster he was becoming.

Reaper visibly shook himself, trying to focus. “Just because I wasn’t injured enough to need medical attention doesn’t mean that I was a coward and ran sir. It just means that none of them got close enough to get their claws into me. We were fighting monsters, not other soldiers with guns.”

“Smart monsters though,” another Colonel remarked. He was more sympathetic to Reaper’s loss.

Reaper nodded. “The ones that turned kept something of their minds, but I have no idea how much. The ones that were still recognizably mostly human were doing things like rushing us with knives, acting crazy. We stood there and mowed them down. I’m guessing that one of them remembered how to disable the computers once they were fully mutated, but that’s just shooting in the dark. I’ve got no real clue. Goat killed himself before he could turn fully. Portman and Destroyer were crushed to death. Mac had his head torn off. I think they ate Duke. The Kid, he…he caught a ricochet.” Reaper knew that it was better to lie about The Kid than tell the brass that Sarge had turned into a murdering bastard. He might as well give The Kid his almost death.

At that point Samantha was wheeled in on a gurney by two people, (Reaper couldn’t see who was wearing the bulky blue hazmat suits) and he turned away from the window, going to his sister’s side. He helped the medical personnel lift Sam onto one of the two hospital beds in the room. Once she’d been settled into the bed he demanded to see her chart. He had enough medical knowledge, and experience from when various members of his team had been injured, to tell how badly she was hurt from what the chart said.

“Corporal?” the more sympathetic of the Colonels called.

Reaper looked up. “She’s my twin sister, sir. That’s why Sarge insisted on making her my responsibility and taking care of the Ark himself. When we thought the problem was just some scientist going postal, he offered to let me stay behind so we wouldn’t have to see each other.” He gave a little rusty laugh. He’d known that he would have never been able to forgive himself if anything had happened to any of them if he’d stayed behind. Knowing now what he hadn’t known then he thanked God that he hadn’t stayed behind. Estranged they might have been, but he and Sam were still twins, still a part of each other in ways that couldn’t really be explained in any language he’d ever heard of.

“Problems?” the Colonel asked bluntly.

Reaper actually appreciated the Colonel’s attitude. “We were fighting over her taking the same job that had gotten our parents killed and my being a Marine, sir. She reamed me out about being a hypocrite and actually asked me if I’d ever thought of what my life would be like looking through a microscope instead of a sniper scope. She didn’t know I’m a medic. My big sister isn’t a Marine, but she’s damned tough for a civilian and she never gives up trying to take care of me.”

“She’s older?” one of the medical personnel asked, a bit surprised considering how much like a protective older brother he’d been acting.

“By two minutes,” Reaper smirked. “And she never lets me forget it either!”

“You went anyway, in spite of your CO telling you to stay behind,” the suspicious Colonel said. “Why?”

“Because I wasn’t about to let my demons get my sister or one of my team mates killed,” Reaper said bluntly. “Now if you don’t mind sir, I’d like to get cleaned up so that when Sam wakes up she doesn’t see me covered in her friends’ blood.” With that, Reaper grabbed up the medical scrubs that were lying on the empty bed and headed for the tiny shower in the small bathroom attached to the isolation room.


	3. Chapter 3

M class planet just outside of Federation space – 1 year past Vulcan’s destruction and 213 years past the massacre at Olduvai

The cells in this corridor were empty of prisoners. Once they’d established that, Reaper took a moment to examine his new gun. It wasn’t up to RRTS standards, but it looked fairly well maintained and adequate for the task ahead of him. It was more like a personal hunting rifle than a warrior’s weapon. He’d have to fire it a few times before he could make a guess of the weapon’s range and any obvious quirks. “Do either of you have any clue where your man might be?” Reaper asked.

“We were brought into the compound from the West. The compound itself is setup like a castle or keep, with a room filled wall around an open area which in turn surrounds a tower. The tower is where the most valuable slaves are kept as well as where the slavers live. The walls hold slave pens, guard barracks, and storage areas as far as I could tell. The open area has a lot of animals, barrels, wagons, debris and the like. From what I’ve been able to tell only the rich on this planet have any access to what passes for advanced technology around here,” Kirk said, peering around the corner.

“If Doctor McCoy has been recognized as a healer, and as I very much doubt that he would be concealing this fact, he would be considered a much more valuable slave than either of us,” Spock pointed out.

Kirk snickered. “I’m a doctor, not a god damned brick layer!” he said in what sounded like an imitation of someone. Reaper had no clue if it was a good one or not.

“Indeed,” Spock said, one eyebrow lifted. Reaper wasn’t sure, but he thought the Vulcan just might be amused. It was hard to tell as his face never changed from his dead pan expression. “The good doctor is never one to back down from a confrontation.”

“That might be good or that might be bad,” Reaper pointed out. He was going over the pistol. It looked like a fairly basic design, six bullets carried in a cylinder. At least it wasn’t a flint lock where he’d have to deal with black powder. With as primitive as this building was, that possibility had crossed his mind. His reflexes were fast, but not fast enough to deal with that complication with a completely new weapon in combat. “These guys are going to figure out that we’re on the loose soon. He’s your man, do we sneak in and grab him when we can or do we go in with extreme prejudice?”

“As much as I’d like to go in phasers blazing, we only have two guns and you’ve got both of them,” Kirk pointed out.

“So we get more,” Reaper said easily. “I don’t have a problem with that.” Considering the stench that the guard had given off, it wouldn’t surprise him to find that these people were the worst sort of slavers, providing the most disgusting degenerates with pleasure slaves.

“Perhaps we do,” Spock said reprovingly. “As unpleasant and inhumane a practice slavery is, this planet is not a member of the Federation, nor is it advanced enough for any type of space flight.”

“Don’t go quoting the Prime Directive at me,” Reaper said, disgusted. “I get that, but we’re not talking about diverting an entire planet’s future here. This is search and rescue for one of your own, not search and destroy to kick over the local government, kid.” This time he spun the term into an insult. He’d been doing this sort of work on and off for over two centuries. He knew what he was talking about.

“Spock, Reaper,” Kirk broke in with the ease of long standing habit, not that he’d ever thought a stranger would be stepping into Bones’ regular role. “No arguing, you’re both right. We’re going to try sneaking in and avoiding any more casualties, but we all know that might not be possible. Kill if you have to, avoid it if you can.” He gave both of them a measuring look. One minute Grimm was nothing at all like Doctor McCoy, and the next he was acting exactly like him. Something wasn’t adding up here.

Reaper nodded. This was Kirk’s op and his man. It was his responsibility in the end. He slipped the pistol back into the waistband of his pants. If they were going to be sneaking around they might as well search the outer wall first. Reaper went first around the corner.

Up ahead he could hear a roar of laughter, at least he thought it was laughter, these aliens seemed to have a secondary vocal box that added a weird echo. It was probably one of the guard barracks Kirk had mentioned, and if it wasn’t, well with this being a slaver’s armed stronghold, he didn’t hold much hope for avoiding a situation where they’d have to kill someone. Some things simply could not be tolerated.

Reaper slowed down, risking a quick glance behind him to make sure that the kids were both keeping up and covering their backs properly. He wasn’t surprised to see that Spock was following a textbook pattern, but Kirk wasn’t doing too badly either. He had the suspicion that Kirk had done his own fair share of sneaking around before. He held up his hand, motioning them to wait. This would be better if he did the recon on his own.

He handed his weapons out to the kids, and Kirk reached for them both. Reaper held onto them for just a moment, trying to impress upon the young man how serious a situation this was. There was no going back from here. Kirk might have to kill someone, and it would be harder on him than on Spock. Vulcans were a lot more practical about being in a situation like this one. It was one of the few good applications of their logic as far as Reaper could see. Kirk handed Spock the pistol and set them both up to cover the corridor. When the boys were set, Reaper pulled his knives and ghosted on ahead.

 

Earth – 5 days past Olduvai massacre

John sat in the window in Sam’s hospital room. He’d been keeping his physical distance from her for the last few days once he’d known that she was going to live. It was only partially calculated behavior. He had to give those watching him a certain impression. The rest of it was him fighting his new instincts. His hearing and other senses had undergone an upgrade as a result of the C24 and he had overheard some disturbing things from both his superior officers and the UAC cretins hanging around them both.

Colonel Blackwell, a complete shithead if he’d ever met one, was still convinced that Reaper was a coward and had run when the shit hit the fan, in spite of the spotty surveillance recordings that the UAC had managed to retrieve from their backup server. The only thing that was of any interest in their arrival and transport to Mars had been that Reaper had gone first. None of their time on Olduvai had been recorded, and little of their time at the Earthside facility after their return was actually viewable after the monster had made it through the Ark.

It did show Pinky coming through and the monster following, killing most of the civilians in its path. That’s when the surveillance began to break down. It showed Sarge, Duke and The Kid following and shooting everyone who looked to be already dead. It showed Reaper and Sam getting to Earth. Then it jumped to the fully mutated monster picking up Pinky by the head and swinging him around into the wall like a weapon.

John thanked God that it cut out at that point so no one knew he’d been hit in the face by Pinky’s wheels on the monster’s backswing. He couldn’t explain just why he didn’t have a scratch on his face instead of the large gouge that had been there before Sam had shot him up with the C24. The last thing that the cameras showed was Sarge, Reaper and Duke in a running fight with a crowd of mutating people, the three Marines falling back as the crowd chased them.

Blackwell discounted all of that, insisting that Reaper was a coward because he hadn’t been injured and was doing his best to get John thrown out of the Corps. It didn’t matter to him that John was grieving over the loss of his team. All he saw was seven dead soldiers and that the last one left alive had no injuries.

“John, get over here,” Sam ordered, tired of her brother’s withdrawal and brooding. “Come on, sit down,” she said, thumping the mattress of her hospital bed next to her. As he did as she ordered, she pulled him into a hug. “I’m not going to leave you, not now. You know I’m never going out into the field again. I’ll be stuck in a nice safe lab, doing nothing riskier than looking at old bones that someone else dug up.”

Sam knew that they were being watched, so she whispered into John’s neck, “What’s wrong?” She desperately hoped that he wasn’t having problems with C24. She knew that injecting him with the extra chromosome had been the only way to save his life, and she still would rather have him superhuman than dead. So she would help him to deal with whatever the problem was. It wouldn’t be right to leave him to deal with it on his own.

“They’re going to take us, just on the off chance that I did get infected,” Reaper whispered back. “That’s the main problem. Blackwell’s trying to get me kicked out of the Marines and they’re doing what they can to help that because it’ll make taking us easier. The good news is that I figured out how those who were infected were choosing who to bite and who to eat.”

“How?” she really wanted to know. The scientist in her had a thousand different theories and she was eager to know if any of them were right.

“Scent,” he half laughed. “Some people smell just awful, like Portman did after he came up out of the sewers. There’s something…I really can’t explain it. It isn’t really words, more like a feeling, but something in the scent tells me whether they could be an ally or an enemy. You smell like: sister, sibling, litter mate?” John sighed, he didn’t know how to describe the feeling of kinship and safety any other way. He gently pulled her a little closer, making sure that he didn’t hurt her. She was hurt enough already. The doctors said that she would never walk again. “You’re hurt and I know it, and I also know that if I bite you, you’ll get better. You won’t turn into one of those monsters.”

“You know,” she said louder only mostly for the benefit of the cameras and bugs. “Duke told me that he couldn’t see you as being empathetic or sensitive.” She lowered her voice again. “You’d better not have been calling me a dog.”

John laughed and pulled away from her. “No,” he said with emphasis. “He really wouldn’t have. Please tell me that you didn’t tell him about the Jesup kids.”

“You mean the boys who used to poke you until you cried?” Sam said with a smile.

“Oh come on Sam! We were five!” he protested.

“Uh huh, and I had no problem beating them up for picking on my little brother,” she teased.

“Two minutes Sam, two minutes,” John reminded her. “We were born practically right on top of each other.”

“And I was first and that’s what counts,” she said smugly.

The teasing banter could have gone on for quite a while. John had missed it during the years they’d been apart, but that wouldn’t help with his plans for getting them away. “Yeah, ok,” he gave in. He pretended not to see her mild alarm. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I got some thinking to do.”

Reaper left the hospital, going to his jeep. There were things that being in special ops taught a person. Most of them weren’t things that he regularly practiced; the RRTS had usually been called in for things like high security hostage or data retrieval. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t done his fair share of the shadier side of things. He was going to have to repeat something that he’d thought he’d never have to do again and the very thought was making him sick.

He and his team had once set up false identities, several sets of them as a matter of fact, for each team member. Everyone knew that there might come a day when they’d need to totally disappear to complete a mission or in order to get home if everything had gone FUBAR. Just on a whim he had set up one of his identities with a sister, complete with her own paperwork. The only people who had known about the extra ids had been his team mates. As a precaution he had fleshed out those identities over the last five years. That day had finally come to use them.


	4. Chapter 4

M class planet just outside of Federation space – 1 year after Vulcan’s destruction, 213 years after the massacre at Olduvai

The first door Reaper came to was a storeroom, the one after that was the barracks. The stench coming out of there was bad, but not as bad as the guard had been. That thought made Reaper shudder to think of what that guard’s plans for the boys must have been. Those who have given in to their darker natures; the abusers, those who murdered, or the ones who harmed people who could not stop them for their own amusement, they were the ones who always stank the worst to his unique sense of smell.

Sometimes he hated the changes that the C24 had wrought in him, not the least of which was that he could no longer age. Everyone had a distinct odor to him now, based on their genetics and whether or not they had the markers for psychotic or violent behavior. Klingons were bad. He could stand to be in the same room as one, but it wasn’t pleasant. Oddly enough, Vulcans were the same way. He’d heard somewhere that Vulcans had an extremely violent past as a race. He could confirm that simply by their smell. He was just glad that they had taken themselves in hand a few thousand years ago.

A quick check of the room through the partially open door showed that there were ten men having a meal, and getting drunker by the minute if Reaper could judge them by Human behavior. Well, between their behavior and the smell of the alcohol. It was pretty pungent. These people needed to learn how to make good booze. The guards were either off duty or really bad at their jobs. Sarge would have skinned someone alive if he’d caught them drunk on duty. Reaper shut down that thought fast. Sarge wasn’t a subject he could think about unless he were drunk, and that usually took something so strong that Humans couldn’t handle it, or at least not a lot of it. At least he could still fight even if he really couldn’t get drunk anymore.

A cold smile crossed Reaper’s face. He didn’t know when the last time he’d gotten into a good fight was, but right now he really was looking forward to the excuse to burn a little of his aggression off. Reaper waved the boys forward. He slipped into the room, knowing that either they would follow or guard the door. Either way was fine with him. “Gentlemen,” he called out. That was all it took. All ten men looked up and the fight was on.

The man directly in front of Reaper stood up and took a swing at him. Reaper was moving before the man had pulled his fist all the way back. He grabbed the man’s shoulders and used them to vault himself up and over the guard, somersaulting onto the large table in the middle of the room. An elbow to the back of the first guard’s head knocked him out, landing him on the floor at Kirk and Spock’s feet, a direction he’d been headed in anyway, and a kick to the face broke the jaw of the guard at the head of the table.

Reaper could see that Kirk was brawling on his right. Spock was doing some sort of weird Vulcan fighting thing to his left. Whatever it was, the men Spock was up against were falling down unconscious and that’s what mattered. By the time Reaper was on his fourth opponent, just moments into the fight, one of the guards began screaming about how Reaper was dead, that he’d killed him. That was enough to really piss Reaper off. Just because he was hard to kill did not mean that the cretin had to go and try to do it!

Reaper saw a smirk cover Kirk’s face and he just knew that there was going to be trouble. “You can’t kill Death,” Kirk called out to the panicked guard. That scared the man even more as amusing as that was to Reaper. Kirk was turning out to be someone that he thought he’d like. The guard reached over to the youngest of the ten men in the room, throwing him at Reaper and turning to run out of the room.

Reaper caught the young man and scented him. “Boy, being a slaver will destroy your soul. It will rot you from the inside out. You still have a chance to save your soul. The rest of these men have no chance at all. Any sort of work is better than destroying innocent people’s lives!” he growled. He tossed the young man towards the door and turned back to watch Spock chastising Kirk. The young guard took his chance and ran for his life, and perhaps his soul.

“What? You can’t kill death, it’s impossible,” Kirk protested.

“Brat,” Reaper muttered as he picked up the abandoned weapons lying around the room.

“You deliberately led those men to believe that Mr. Grimm was a manifestation of a mythical entity, the physical embodiment of death itself,” Spoke gritted out. The disapproval was thick in his voice. ‘No emotions my ass,’ Reaper thought.

“Yep,” Kirk agreed. He stopped and held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Listen Spock, there’s no better way to clear this place out of anyone who can leave of their own free will. They’ll be scared, but they won’t be hurt, which is better for us and them in the long run. We can make sure that anyone they leave behind is unshackled, or set free somehow.”

“And if they do not flee in fear?” Spock asked.

“Well, then I get to beat the shit out of them,” Reaper said. He was looking forward to it. His form had been really sloppy during the fight. That told him that he was missing years, if not decades, where he hadn’t been fighting. Could he be this Doctor McCoy that they were missing?

Spock turned to him with one of his eyebrows raised. “If it were not for your fighting abilities and attitude towards such, I would say that you were without a doubt Doctor McCoy. Are you aware of any aberrations in your mental capacity?”

“Spock, you don’t ask the guy who can take you on and whip your ass if he’s nuts,” Kirk moaned, shaking his head.

Reaper gave up hoping that these two would act like professionals and left the room. Kirk and Spock followed, not breaking off their conversation. Why did he always get stuck with kids who talked when they were likely to get jumped? “I was not implying that Mr. Grimm was insane, merely that it is very likely that something has happened to him that has affected him mentally. I do find that much of the information he has given us to be contradictory,” Spock said huffily.

“Yeah, I got that too,” Kirk said as they walked down the hallway in plain view. A woman walked out of what was probably another store room, took one look at the blood covered men and ran screaming. “We’re not that bad,” he grumbled.

“What’s so contradictory?” Reaper wanted to know. He’d much rather have the women run scared from them than have to take one on. He hated killing women when there was another option.

“Your name and nickname indicate Terran or Human origin. Your fighting skills are definably Star Fleet Marine in origin, and yet you executed them with a speed that is not possible for a Human to accomplish. Your injuries have healed at an excessive rate, approximately fifty one point five seven times Human normal. You are identical in appearance to Doctor McCoy and your speech patterns are remarkably similar. For instance, your speech to the young guard and your reference to Captain Kirk as a brat,” Spock listed.

Reaper laughed. “Well that’s not too hard to come up with, he is a brat. I was a Marine at one time, and my team mates nicknamed me Reaper. As for my name, my sister and I were born on a Human science colony. Does that answer all of your questions?”

“Spock, Bones couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag, remember? He barely passed the mandatory self defense courses at the academy,” Kirk said. They were halfway through searching the outer wall now. They hadn’t seen any slaves in pens, although they had found a few empty ones, and Reaper figured that they must have gone the wrong way when they’d left their own cell. From the state of the rooms that they were passing, it looked like Kirk’s little philosophical debate had worked the way he’d intended it to because they had all been abruptly abandoned.

“That is not difficult to do if one is wary of injuring one’s instructor.” And dang if Spock didn’t sound pissed, to Reaper’s amusement. He hadn’t known that Vulcans could sound like that.

“Ah,” Kirk said, and simply dropped that subject. Apparently Brat knew enough about his first to know when a subject wasn’t up for discussion. They turned another corner and here were the slave pens that they’d been expecting. All three men fell silent at the sight of men, women and children dressed in near rags and crowded into what amounted to cages. Reaper threw Brat the keys and began walking down along the pens, kicking in the doors, which were all of similar design to the cell where they’d been held.

Brat and Spock, and damn he was going to have to give the Vulcan a name if he was giving Kirk one, (Reaper’s mind shied away again at the memory of The Kid who hadn’t lived long enough to receive his real handle ID) were opening the pens on the other side. He couldn’t say just why giving these two handle IDs was important. It just felt right, and that made John Grimm uneasy. In the two centuries since Olduvai, he could name the people that he had been close enough to that giving them a handle ID had been important to him on the fingers of one hand.

He knew that he’d lost years to his head injury, but the thought that he had possibly taken on an identity that was so far removed from what he thought was his core personality was more than a bit frightening. He wasn’t congenial or charming and he had very little patience with idiots. He’d have sworn that it would take losing a bet to Sam before he’d ever become a doctor, not after he’d lost Goat on Olduvai when he’d been his team’s medic. He knew that she’d love for him to do that, rather than the security and military work that he’d done off and on throughout his long life; looking through a microscope instead of a sniper scope indeed.

Samantha had a thing about him facing his fears, and what had happened at Olduvai, both to their parents and his team had spawned a number of them. In fact, he wouldn’t be at all surprised if she was the one who had gotten him out into space in the first place. Bossy big sisters were a pain in the ass, especially when they weren’t that much older. Two more hallways with slave pens and one more with store rooms and barracks and they had searched the entire outer wall. It was time to check out the courtyard area.


	5. Chapter 5

Earth – 9 days past Olduvai massacre

Today was the day, the last of his leave and days if not hours before the UAC was going to try and kidnap him and his sister. John looked over the barracks where he had lived with his team. All of the team’s personal effects had been packed up and sent to their respective relatives or whoever had been designated as their heirs. There was literally nothing left in the barracks that wasn’t Marine Corps issue. It was ready for the next team to move in. It was so empty it gave John the creeps.

John picked up his duffle and checked the incendiaries that he had hidden in the bottom. He had all of his gear packed, including all of his weapons and medical packs. Those he was obvious about taking, having gotten supplies from the quartermaster. The quartermaster thought that John was prepping for the next day when he would be reporting for duty. He didn’t know, and probably wouldn’t until either later that day or sometime in the next few days, that Reaper had stolen the incendiaries behind his back. He’d also stolen a complete replica of his gear and weapons from the junk piles. Those were stashed in his jeep.

Reaper left the barracks for the last time, got in his jeep and drove off the base. He felt bad for the guards who let him go and the quartermaster and everyone else that would be blaming themselves for his actions today, but he had to save Sam. Every instinct that he had, C24 enhanced and otherwise, was telling him that he had to get his sister to safety. He headed for a lakeside cabin that he had rented a few days before. It was out of the way and more than a little ramshackle. In fact it was almost falling apart.

A skinny teenaged girl was waiting for him when he entered the one room cabin. Sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace were two adults, a male and a female, both tied up and gagged. The girl was holding Reaper’s pistol on them. “Did they give you any problems?” he asked.

“No, are you really going to kill them?” she asked nervously.

“Yep,” Reaper said as he set the junk he’d collected on the floor by the man. “I told you, I need the bodies and they deserve to die. I really wasn’t looking forward to killing an innocent person or stealing a couple of bodies from the local morgue. Do you have any plans for after I kill them?”

“Yeah, I’ve been telling them all about how I’m going to sell their house, move to West Virginia and no one will ever touch me again,” she growled.

“You’ll need to wait seven years to get them declared dead. Remember, they’re just going to disappear,” John warned.

“It’ll be worth the wait,” she said, the pain and anger in her voice clear.

“Hey,” John said, gently setting his hand on top of where she was clutching his pistol. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok?”

She nodded. “My best friend’s mom has already all but adopted me. She’ll make sure I’m ok until I can be on my own.”

“Just promise me that you’ll go to a shrink and get the help you need. Child abuse leaves bad scars, and you won’t heal if you don’t deal with the wounds,” John said as he went back to his preparations.

“I promise,” she said firmly. Reaper smiled. He was so very grateful that he’d stumbled on her and her situation. He’d been out for a walk when he’d seen the couple and their daughter coming out of a local grocery store. The sheer stench coming from them had been nauseating; as had been the look of fear on the girl’s face. He’d followed them to a cabin further up the lake than where they were now, mostly out of concern for the girl, not realizing at the time what the stench meant. What he’d seen when he’d peeked in the windows had sent him deeper into the woods surrounding the lake to throw up. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen someone be raped before, but it was the first time he’d seen a man rape his own child.

“What are those?” she asked as he pulled the incendiaries out of his bag.

“These are incendiaries; that means they burn things up when you set them off. It’s how I’m going to make sure that their bodies aren’t recognizable,” Reaper explained as he set them up around the room.

“I still don’t get why you need dead bodies,” the girl said nervously.

“My sister and I need to disappear and fortunately for the three of us, these two match our general physical type. Just before I set the incendiaries off I’ll call 911, and get the fire department out here. That way the fire won’t spread and the bodies will be found quickly enough to let my sister and I get away from the people who are after us,” Reaper explained. “You don’t have to watch this you know.”

“Yes I do, or I’ll never believe that I’m free,” she said, tears gathering in her eyes.

John nodded. He could understand that. He was dealing with the nightmares of Olduvai and Sarge surviving the ST grenade starred in more than a few of them. Those nightmares were going to be with him for years to come. “This is going to be messy,” he warned. Reaper pulled the woman off of the couch, threw her onto the floor on her stomach and brought his foot down on her spine, breaking it just like Sarge had broken Sam’s. He ignored the muffled scream and put her back on the couch.

Taking his pistol back from the girl, Reaper shot the woman; once in the head and once in the heart. Then he put the pistol to the side of the man’s head and pulled the trigger. He ignored the shocked noises the girl made and arranged the bodies so that it looked like a murder/suicide. When he looked up the girl was calming down, and although tears were pouring down her face, she said, “Thank you.”

John nodded again. “I got nightmares of my own kid. They’re not the same thing as yours, but they’re about on the same level of bad shit I think.”

“I really don’t want to know,” she said and left the cabin.

John followed her out. “Good luck,” he said as he shook her hand.

“Thank you again,” she said before driving off. John huffed out a deep breath. ‘Thank God that’s over,’ he thought as he climbed into his jeep. He was halfway through this operation now and things seemed to be going well. Now all he had to do was get Sam out of the hospital.

The fight with the doctor was everything that John had expected it to be. The man did not want to let Sam out of the hospital, not even for a few hours. Finally, after swearing up and down a stack of bibles that he would have Sam back in her hospital bed by dinner, the doctor let him take her out for the afternoon, but only because John was a Marine and reporting for duty tomorrow. If something happened and he was called up the doctor knew that he might not be able to see his sister for months.

As he pulled out of the hospital parking lot he was cursing the fact that the UAC was right behind him. This was going to make his plan a lot harder. They followed his jeep all the way out to the lake, only dropping back out of sight when it was obvious that they were the only other car on the road. “That was UAC,” Sam said softly, not making it a question.  
“Yeah, but as long as they give us about fifteen minutes we’re good,” John reassured her. “I have a plan.” He parked the jeep and pulled out her wheelchair, parking it on the front of the porch. Then he carried her inside.

“John, why are there two dead bodies on the couch?” Sam asked calmly. She’d seen far too many in the last couple of weeks for these two to make much of an impression now.

“As far as the Corps and the UAC are concerned, they’re us,” John said. He paused only long enough in the front room to set off the incendiaries that he’d planted earlier. Then he continued out the back of the cabin. With his increased speed he made it to the tree line before they could get toasted. Putting Sam up in the surveillance nest he’d made, he made sure that she was comfortable. Then he called 911. “There will be a fire at the McCoy cabin on Leaf Lake in about two minutes. I’m sorry.” He climbed up next to Sam and settled in to watch the show, handing her a pair of binoculars so that she wouldn’t miss it either.

“I’ve been setting things up to look like I’d snapped from Olduvai,” he explained. “No one will question that I committed suicide rather than survive my team only to be kicked out of the Corps for cowardice and that I couldn’t kill myself if you were still alive and needed me because we’re twins. You helped with that little speech about not leaving me in the hospital.”

“I meant what I said,” Sam reassured him. She wasn’t about to object to what she knew was coming. The UAC sedan came barreling up the road, spilling out agents that could easily pass for trolls. They tried to get into the cabin, but it was already fully engulfed in flames. “So if we’re not us, who are we?” Sam asked as the fire engines finally pulled up.

Reaper smirked as the water from the trucks only made the fire burn hotter. “We’re James and Elizabeth Conway. Your identity papers are in that box beside you.”

Sam looked around the tiny nest of blankets and pillows that John had set her on, finding a small wooden box on her left. John had thought of everything. There was a driver’s license, a bank book with papers for a checking account as well as a savings account, credit cards, even a library card in the box and they looked to be at least moderately used. “How did you do this? You even got my pictures on these and these accounts aren’t static.”

“Most of it is all computer work, but I had Mac’s girlfriend use the cards a few times and someone who makes fake ids did the rest,” John said. “You know you can’t go on the run in a wheelchair Sam.”

“I know,” she said quietly. Her injuries were recent enough that C24 would heal them completely. “Are you sure that I won’t turn?”

John could hear her heart beating faster and her scent change with her anxiety. “I’m sure,” he promised. She smiled gamely at him and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, exposing her neck and offering it to him. He wants to launch himself at her and bite her at once. The urge was a strong one, but so was the knowledge that if he does he will scare her and that’s the last thing he wants. Part of him has been restless, knowing that C24 had separated him from his twin in a way that even their fight and ten year estrangement never had. Now he can correct that. He pulled her gently into a hug, and bit down on her neck, instinctively going for the area around the artery.

Sam hissed in pain, but didn’t fight him as he ground his teeth a little in order to break her skin. That’s all it took. The moment he tasted blood his mouth was flooded with something that wasn’t saliva. He coated the wound with it, making sure that the thick substance irretrievably saturated every millimeter. Reaper let go of her neck and pulled her into his lap, offering what comfort he could.

“Ow,” Sam complained without any real feeling behind it. She snuggled down in his embrace and waited for her heart to slow down. There is nothing in the universe that could make her not trust her brother, so she didn’t bother to worry about possibly turning into one of those monsters. Instead she thinks about the possible side effects.

She wondered how she would cope with being able to smell a person’s capacity for going crazy or being violent. John might call it simply evil, but Sam was well aware that it was far more complicated than that. Every person had free will and that alone had a huge effect. Without noticing it Samantha slipped into the death coma that preceded the changes C24 would make to her body.


	6. Chapter 6

M class planet just outside of Federation space – 1 year after Vulcan’s destruction and 213 years after Olduvai

It wasn’t just one single thing that began to bring images to John Grimm’s mind, images that he knew were his returning memory. It was many things, such as the sight of a blond woman who was yelling at a soldier as he, Brat and Spock fought their way through the courtyard. Now, that particular couple wasn’t anything like him or Sam, but the cringing that the guy was doing reminded him that yes, he did lose a bet to Sam about becoming a doctor. She had maneuvered him into agreeing that on their two hundredth re-birthday, if they lived that long; (they started counting re-birthdays on their birthday following Olduvai as they had changed so drastically and they couldn’t not share a birthday) he would enter medical school.

Since he knew perfectly well that even as enhanced as he was, his lifestyle was more likely to get him killed than it was to let him live to such a ripe old age he’d agreed, mostly to get her to stop trying to get him to face the memory of losing Goat. Even if they had known what had really been wrong with Goat, there still wasn’t anything he could have done to stop it, and with that memory came the knowledge that he had lost more patients than just his team mate, but also that he had saved far more than he’s lost.

Getting run through with a sword was never a good experience, but that and the guy yelling at the soldiers from the back, (and why is it always the back? Assholes are damned cowards throwing their men at us to die while they stay safe and sound) reminds him that his last commander had been just such an asshole, and that he hadn’t really minded going to medical school, even though he’d had to deal with nightmares about Goat every night for a year. In fact John had been so fed up with the entire situation that he’d completely turned his back on anything military for nearly ten years, the longest stretch in his long life.

But it was the little girl with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that was carried away from the fight in the courtyard by her mother, or a female at any rate, that really brought everything back - from graduating medical school to getting on a Star Fleet shuttle because his ex-wife had taken his little girl from him, the baby that was his entire world. Jo-Anna was his only child.

In over two centuries he had never been brave enough to become a parent because he was terrified of the child inheriting his 24th chromosome pair. The chances of a child of his being normal and not a monster from birth, if the child survived birth, had been far too high against for him to face. Sam hadn’t been brave enough to risk ending all Human life on Earth either. Out of nearly two hundred people only he and Sam hadn’t had the genetic markers that caused the massacre on Olduvai when the scientists had experimented with C24. Well, not really; there had been a lot of bodies that hadn’t changed but as he had no way of knowing who wasn’t in the process of mutating he had gone with the survival rate rather than the probable genetic ratios when he’d done his calculations.

Little Jo-Anna had beaten the odds and had been a normal Human child visually. Unfortunately, her mother had begun divorce proceedings and thus had also taken away any chance he had of being able to check his daughter for C24. He had only been allowed supervised visits at the hospital where they both worked. For some reason it did not matter to Jocelyn that although he had always said he didn’t want children, he loved his daughter. By the time Jo-Anna was a year old her mother had custody and Leonard McCoy had become a doctor for Star Fleet.

Bones ripped the sword out of his chest. It had missed his heart. The growl he sent at the man who had just stabbed him sent the man running and no few of his fellow soldiers as well. He hated getting impaled. There were as many swords as guns on this battlefield and quite frankly he was fed up with all of it. He’d had enough of a fight to burn off his aggression. It was time to stop this now. He had a letter about his daughter to get back to and a decision to make. Knowing that Jim and Spock both knew about him now, he didn’t bother with trying to hide his abilities. He marched directly towards the man in charge of this disgusting place, completely ignoring the bullets that hit his body.

That really sent the guards running in fear. By the time Bones had reached the general of this outfit the courtyard was completely empty of all living beings save for the four of them. The General pointed his pistol at Bones, but he simply batted it out of the way and picked the General up by the throat. “I am sick and gods-be-damned tired of this shit! All people like you do is create more work for me to do and I’ve already got my hands full!”

Jim Kirk was amused to see a full blown McCoy rant, and even more amused to see the faces peeking out from behind various objects and walls far away from Bones and his ranting. The locals were definitely scared and he was sure that the story of a cranky Death would be heard all over this planet within the year. There was no doubt at all in his mind now. John ‘Reaper’ Grimm was Doctor Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy, but as amusing as the familiar rant was, the man had a lot of explaining to do when they got back to Enterprise.

 

DOOM-STARTREK-DOOM-STARTREK-DOOM-STARTREK-DOOM

Jim and Spock’s various bruises and other injuries were easily healed with a quick visit to sickbay, which meant that they were not going to let McCoy have any time to figure out what he was going to tell them. Both men were people that he could trust, even with this hideous secret, but two hundred years was a long time to hide. Knowing what his sister would say, Bones could admit to himself that it was more a matter of fear of Olduvai happening again than actual fear that either of the two men would say anything to cause it to happen.

‘Hell, both of them are more than familiar enough with losses on a planetary scale to want to risk it,’ Bones reminded himself. He wasn’t the only one to have lost nearly everything in his life. Spock lost his mother, most of his race and his entire home planet. Jim had survived Tarsus and Kodos the Executioner. Jim knew exactly what it was like to be one of the only witnesses to the sort of slaughter that happened at Olduvai.

Bones led his friends into his quarters, telling them to make themselves comfortable while he washed the blood off. When he came back out of the head, Kirk was sitting in his desk chair and Spock was standing at attention at Jim’s shoulder. “You’re going to want to be comfortable when I explain this. It’s difficult enough for me, but I’m pretty sure it’ll be worse for the two of you,” he said, and waved Jim and Spock into his sleeping area.

Once there he made both of them sit on his bunk, which was up against one bulkhead and acted like a couch. He then unlocked his personal safe, which was only about the size of a single drawer but even on a ship this size space was a premium. Out of it he took a simple wooden box, handing it to Jim. “A lot of what’s in there you’ll have to explain to Spock, Jim. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable of understanding it Spock, it’s just that I don’t think I can do this more than once.”

Solemnly Spock nodded and watched as Jim opened the box. Inside were seven metal tags and a chain which had two more of the metal tags on it. Jim recognized them as old fashioned ‘dog tags’, called that because of their similarity to the identification chips that canines wore during that same time period. Also inside the box were two data recordings. These were not older models, but had just come out before the Enterprise had left Earth orbit to start their five year mission.

Bones sat down in the chair next to his bunk and pulled out the chain. “These are mine, and everything that you have questions about all revolve around the last time I wore these.” He set the chain aside and picked up one of the data recordings. Without a word he slid it into the screen on the opposite wall of the small sleeping area.

The images that played on the screen were of a group of men in a barracks, having some sort of party. “This took place the Christmas before our last mission. That was in 2046. It’s quite literally the only images I have of them, of my team. By the time Christmas of 2047 came around, they were all dead and I was on the run with my sister. We’ve been on the run ever since, and I haven’t been able to watch this in any of that time. My sister keeps the main files for me and transfers them to new media when necessary.” Bones didn’t watch it now. Even two centuries later seeing his brothers alive and laughing was more than he could take.

The seven men in the video file were soldiers; Marines. Nicknames flew throughout; Sarge, Destroyer, Duke, Mac, Goat, and Reaper as well as jokes and laughter. The only one not given a nickname was a man called Portman. They were obviously close, there were no awkward questions, and no one was put on the spot unless Portman was involved. The first time the man opened his mouth was the first time Jim offered an opinion. “God, not even I was ever that bad.”

Bones smirked, with as much pain as amusement. “We tolerated Portman. He was good at his job, but he was a sick fuck at the best of times. Aside from my sister, this was the only family I had.” He pulled out the recording and passed it to Spock. “You can keep that until you’re done with it. This one,” he took the second recording, “is everything that Samantha and I could get together about Olduvai, a research station on Mars and the massacre that happened there.”

Admittedly it wasn’t much, and most of it he and Sam had sneaked into OAC offices to hack into their computer systems for, but it was important that any and all information on the situation at Olduvai remain exclusively in their hands. They could only trust each other not to recreate C24. Jim and Spock sat silently until the monster that Sam had nicknamed ‘The Baron’ came on the screen. “This creature,” Spock began.

“Was at one time Human, Spock. He was a condemned criminal, a murderer who had been chosen as a test subject as the method of his execution. It was Doctor Carmack’s study. If there was an ethical bone anywhere in his body I never saw it and neither did Sam. Carmack came up with a synthetic 24th chromosome. The problem was that if the person it was used on had the genetic markers for insanity or violence, then that’s what happened.”

Bones took a deep breath. “But if they didn’t have those markers, then the person became superhuman. They because super strong, super intelligent, etc. If anyone at anytime had ever figured out that I survived the slaughter because I had been given C24 and did not mutate into one of those things they would have tried it again. There were 150 to 200 people there and Sam and I were the only ones to make it out. Those who mutated either killed or turned everyone else. We were RRTS, the best there was, and these things wiped us all out in less than six hours.”

“If this took place in 2046, then it occurred in conjunction with the Eugenics War,” Spock said.

Bones nodded. “Three months after Olduvai, the first shot was fired. OAC was up to its neck in causing the war.”

“200 people in six hours?” Jim asked, with a sick expression on his face.

Bones shook his head. “No, for the first four hours there were only sixteen people involved, seven of which were either already dead or mutated. My team was picked off one by one as we chased the monsters through the lab complex. The majority of the deaths and mutations happened in the last two hours when just one made it back to Earth.”


	7. Chapter 7

U.S.S. Enterprise – Federation Star Fleet Flagship – 1 year after the loss of Vulcan and 213 years after the Olduvai massacre

Jim and Spock were both pale at the implications of the numbers. “We didn’t have phasers, not that phasers would have done us much good. We had solid projectile weapons. In fact, I’ve still got mine. It’s right under my bunk if you want to take a look at it. We had to shoot bodies that looked already dead, because there was no way to determine at the time whether or not they were infected. There still isn’t a good way to check for the infection, although there are a couple of signs, unless a blood sample is taken and examined.

“For the most part the infected used their bare hands or simple weapons when they attacked us. That was the only advantage we had against them. No one knew just how much of their minds any of them retained, although one of them took a chainsaw to me and someone had sabotaged the computers in the Earth facility. The only reason that the disaster wasn’t worse was that the shot of C24 my sister gave me didn’t turn me into a monster,” Bones explained quietly.

He waited for the next question. They deserved any truth that he could give them, no matter how much it hurt. They had become his family, just as his team had so many, many years before. “If C24 was mutating the Humans in the facility into monsters as you deemed them, why would your sister inject you with this substance?” Spock asked, confused.

“I’d been hit with a ricochet, that’s a piece of a bullet that has bounced off of a surface and continued on a new trajectory. I was bleeding to death, the others were all dead or turned and she had no way to stop any of the monsters that we hadn’t killed yet. She insisted that she knew I wouldn’t turn. Personally I wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t about to let me die just because I had doubts.”

“What about your sister and Jo-Anna?” Jim asked gently. Although he already had a lot of respect for the man sitting in front of him, this story increased it by a billion fold. He was a genius; he didn’t need to be told that McCoy and his sister had been keeping everyone that they ever met away from this secret in order to save an untold number of lives. If something like this infection got loose on a planet with no real defenses against it, the entire population would likely die a horrible death or worse, become the instrument of destruction. Jim had seen enough of that to last a lifetime, and so had Spock.

Bones took a deep breath, and let it out with a shudder. “Sam was injured. She had a broken back and the UAC was about to take her and torture her so that I would cooperate. Someone was sure that I had been given one of the formulas the scientists were working on. Don’t ask me how she got hurt. I need to be very drunk before I can talk about that, and most alcohol doesn’t do a damned thing to me. It clears my system too fast.

“As for Jo-Anna, Sam thinks she might have inherited C24 from me. She was telling me that Jo was calling her mother’s new boyfriend Mr. Stinky in her last letter. Considering that Sam says he smells like he’s got every genetic marker for psychotic and violent behavior and they’re all active, it’s a possibility. On the other hand, Jo’s five and if she just doesn’t like the guy, well Mr. Stinky isn’t that bad an insult for her age.” Bones smirked and Jim grinned.

“If I may, I have one question before I must take my shift on the bridge,” Spock said. Bones nodded, a lot calmer now that Olduvai was out in the open. “What differences are there if there are any, between Doctor McCoy and John Grimm?”  
“I don’t have a split personality Hobgoblin! Aside from C24, what you see is what you get with me. Now get that green blooded hide of yours up to the bridge so we can get to Starbase 17 on time to pick up your dad and get my sickbay stocked up!” McCoy huffed as Jim laughed and all three men left McCoy’s quarters. The younger two were much reassured that things would now return to normal.

 

U.S.S. Challenger – Federation Star Fleet science vessel – 1 year after the loss of Vulcan and 213 years after the massacre at Olduvai

The loss of seven starships and numerous smaller vessels at the destruction of Vulcan continued to cause logistical problems for Star Fleet. Many ships had been recalled out of retirement, and the same had been done with personnel in order to man them, but the situation still caused ships to take on missions that had little or nothing to do with their original purpose. That was why the Challenger, an older science vessel that had been retired from routine mineralogical surveys before Nero’s attack on the Federation, was now shuttling passengers between space stations.

The Vulcan ambassador Sarek and three of his staff were enroute to Starbase 17 in order to meet with the Enterprise, which would be transporting groups of diplomats to a conference where, among other things, a progress report on the building of the Vulcan colony would be given. This was important information for the Federation to know, not only as Vulcan was one of the founding members and progress in restoring as much as could be restored would boost morale throughout the Federation worlds, but also so that further plans could be made based upon what had already been accomplished.

There were many races, telepaths and empaths all, who could not set foot on New Vulcan because of the great grief that surrounded the Vulcan people. To do so was to invite insanity and both they and the Vulcan people were well aware of it. That did not mean that they did not wish to help, and many had generously sent materials, Vulcan plants and animals from their botany and zoological collections, and provided transportation for workers who were mind blind, and thus able to physically help where they could not. As emotional races, they needed to know what had happened with their gifts to ease their anxiety.

There were two other passengers that were also headed to the Enterprise. Doctor Samantha Grimm and her niece Jo-Anna McCoy were meeting the Enterprise to join her crew. It was due to the small nature of the ship that the six of them were placed in close quarters for their journey. That did not suit Jo-Anna at all. “Aunt Sam, why do they smell stinky?” the five year old asked, not being old enough to have learned about tact yet.

Sam wasn’t about to lie to her niece. She and John had decided that if Jo-Anna had inherited John’s C24, then they would answer all of her questions about her differences as she asked them. “Do you remember our talk about genetics?” she asked, pulling Jo-Anna into her lap.

Jo-Anna nodded, but kept her attention on the Vulcans sitting at the tiny table with her. “Well, different people have different genetics. Your genetics give you the ability to tell by smell if people have certain genetic markers. If a person has the markers for going crazy or that they can be violent, then they don’t smell good to you. That is so that you know to be cautious around them. Now, this is one of the most important things I can teach you about this, so listen very carefully.” Sam waited until Jo-Anna had turned back to look at her. “Every person in this universe has the ability to choose if they want to be good or bad. If they choose to be bad, then their smell is the worst smell ever. If they choose to be good, even if they have the markers for being bad, then they just smell stinky.”

Jo-Anna thought about that for a moment. “Is that why Mr. Johnson smells worse than Johnny’s poop but they just smell stinky?” she asked.

“Yes, you see a long time ago Vulcans were a very violent race. They were worse than the Klingons about getting into fights, but they learned to control their emotions so that they wouldn’t fight any more. They choose to be good,” Sam explained. “Mr. Johnson chooses to be bad, so he smells much, much worse than any dog poop.”

Jo-Anna turned back to the Vulcans and said, “Thank you for choosing to be good, ‘cause if you didn’t I couldn’t breathe and that would be bad.”

Sarek inclined his head, charmed by this small child’s direct honesty. “Choosing to be good as you have stated it has proved beneficial for many reasons. As I would not wish to cause you difficulties, I am pleased that our choice of logic has benefited you as well. I am Sarek, Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. These are my aides; T’aku, Elkeck, and Shaanveth.”

“You’re Hobgoblin’s daddy!” Jo-Anna exclaimed in delight. As Sarek’s eyebrow shot up, Sam grinned. “Daddy sent me a letter from the Enterprise and told me all about Hobgoblin and Brat. He says they’re the best in Star Fleet, that’s why they’re on his ship. Brat used to be his roommate when they were at the Academy but he’s the captain now so he’s got his own room. Daddy has a hospital all to himself! He’s got to take care of everyone who lives on the Enterprise and he says that Hobgoblin’s insides are all mixed up and give him a headache.”

“It’s called a sickbay when it’s on a ship sweetie,” Sam interrupted Jo-Anna’s ramble. “Your daddy is the boss in sickbay. He doesn’t do everything by himself.”

“You are Doctor McCoy’s daughter?” Sarek asked, remembering the rather difficult, although extremely competent doctor.  
“Uh Huh, I’m Jo-Anna,” she agreed. “Brat calls Daddy; Bones. I don’t know why. Daddy told me all about handle ids and he says that they’re really important. They have to fit, otherwise they’re no good and they’re only for people who are really important to you.”

Sarek realized that Jo-Anna was talking about nicknames, a peculiar Human custom, and one that he had never really understood. Perhaps this child could explain it to him. “If your father has explained these nicknames to you, perhaps you could explain them to me? Among Vulcans such a naming system does not exist, and as I understand it such names as your father has given Captain Kirk and my son are insults among Humans. I find this most puzzling.”

“Well, Daddy’s old but he can’t call Captain Kirk, kid because that one already belongs to someone else. Kid died a long time ago and Daddy doesn’t like to talk about it. Daddy calls him Brat because he gets into trouble a lot, even more than me! Do you know Spiderman?” she asked.

The abrupt change in subject did not faze Sarek. He’d had to follow more convoluted conversations before. “A Human teaching tale for young adolescents,” he recalled. “My wife insisted that our son read them for a time. She explained that the tales would teach him the principle of responsibility in the face of extreme difficulties better than the Vulcan way. She was correct.” He did not add the fact that they had argued over the subject and Amanda had snuck the comics to Spock anyway. She had been correct about their son. There were times when he must act as a Human and the Human ways of teaching were occasionally more useful for him.

“That’s right. ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ In the story Peter Parker is a superhero named Spiderman. That’s because when he was in school, he went on a field trip to a lab where they were making a new kind of super spider for this colony where the bugs were eating everyone’s crops. They were trying to find a responsible way to fight the bugs without destroying the eto-system,” Jo-Anna excitedly explained.

“Ecosystem,” Sam interrupted her with the correct pronunciation.

“Right, ecosystem, but someone bumped the cage with the spiders they weren’t finished with yet and a bunch of them got loose. Everyone helped to put them back in their cage, but Peter got bitten. That bite gave him a spider’s abilities. So he uses them to fight bad guys like Nero the bad Romulan who killed lots and lots of people, but my daddy and Brat and Hobgoblin fought him and won. He was really, really bad,” Jo-Anna said seriously.

“He was indeed,” Sarek agreed. He saw no need to tell this small child that he had been there when Nero had destroyed his homeworld and billions of Vulcans.

“So, Peter’s best friend is Harry. Harry has a bunch of technology that lets him help Peter, but sometimes they fight instead of helping each other. Oh, that’s because everything always goes wrong for Peter unless he’s fighting the bad guys. Spiderman usually wins, but even when he wins it makes problems for him ‘cause he’s Peter too. Anyway, when Harry is helping Spiderman he’s called the Hobgoblin. So Daddy calls Mr. Spock, Hobgoblin because they fight all the time even though they’re friends, just with words though,” Jo-Anna reassured Sarek. “And because Hobgoblin is a hero just like Mr. Spock was when they fought Nero the bad Romulan and because he’s got green blood.”

“May I ask what the color of his blood has to do with this nickname?” T’aku asked, confused. She and her fellow aides had been following the conversation closely.

“That makes him a green blooded Hobgoblin instead of a green suited one,” Jo-Anna said seriously. “Spiderman’s disguise so that the bad guys don’t hurt his family is red and blue, but Hobgoblin’s is green.”


	8. Chapter 8

Earth – The Eugenics War – Three months after Olduvai

The Eugenics War had been caused by the UAC, something that had really pissed off both John and Samantha Grimm. After everything that had happened, the idiots still hadn’t figure out the basic principle that messing around with human genetics for profit was bound to backfire in the worst possible way. It wasn’t as bad as Olduvai, there hadn’t been an almost certainty of extinction of the entire human race, but it was damned close. Entire countries were wiped out, hundreds of thousands were killed, and the entire planet was almost sent back to the stone age.

Fortunately for the human race, there were many people who hadn’t been so stupid. John and Sam worked with people from all over the planet as they moved around avoiding the UAC and anyone else who would try to use them. Sam would help those who were copying databases, hiding irreplaceable equipment, everything the human race would need to get back on its collective feet when the war was over. John trained everyone they helped in self defense, ran raids to recover or gain things that Sam said were needed, and took out entire units of the ‘superhuman’ Augments’ soldiers.

It seemed like they had barely caught their collective breath, (it had only been four years since Olduvai) when World War 3 happened. For most of that conflict, John and Sam went to ground and pulled the hole in on themselves. This actually proved useful to the twins. With an unlimited amount of time completely to themselves, as they had no demands on their time other than providing themselves with basic necessities, they were able to begin testing their limits. This wasn’t a comfortable situation for either of them, as it was far too close to what the UAC or any of the other unethical scientists would have done if they’d been able to get to get their collective hands on the pair, but they knew it was necessary. When they emerged from their self imposed isolation, WW3 was over and the world was rebuilding again; a little smarter this time.

Then the Vulcans came, (ten years after Olduvai) and it seemed like the only thing that anyone could talk about. Sam and John parted ways once more, but this time they kept in touch. Sam joined the collective efforts of scientists in trying to expand their reach to the stars, becoming a space ship engineer among other scientific pursuits. John looked to the parts of their world that still had troubles. He spent his time putting out various hot spots; as a bodyguard, law enforcement, and when needed a soldier for hire.

It was a birthday party ten years later that made John realize that there was something very wrong with him. One of the men he was currently serving with, David Packer, was celebrating his fifty fifth birthday and was retiring. That wouldn’t have made a bit of difference if it hadn’t been for a chance remark that led John to add up the years he’d been in combat. Brushing his teeth later that night, he looked at his reflection and realized that although he was almost fifty years old, he still looked twenty eight. He hadn’t aged a day since he’d almost died on Olduvai.

It was the first time in years John had puked. He’d been able to brush it off as one of the other soldiers’ bad cooking, but he was shaken to the core. The next time he got a letter from Sam he’d told his fellow soldiers that his sister was getting married and her husband had a job for him. He was teased about settling down like an old man, but he hid his shudders and teased them right back. As long as none of them thought anything was strange about his leaving, he was fine with it. It was the not aging in twenty years that he wasn’t happy with.

Sam was working in San Francisco when John showed up on her doorstep. To his sorrow, and shameful relief, she was just as he remembered her. Her blond hair had no grey in it, nor could he see any wrinkles or other signs of age. “Hey sis,” he said, “you got time for a talk with your little brother?” Most of the time her insistence that two minutes meant so much just annoyed him, but right now having something solid and never changing between them was essential. His whole world had just fallen apart, worse than anything that had ever happened on Mars.

“Of course I have time! Get in here!” she scolded, pulling her twin into her apartment. “What brings you to California? I thought you were going to stay in Germany for a few more years?” She gave him a playful shove over to her kitchen table and began fixing him breakfast. It looked like he needed it.

“Do you realize it’s been twenty years since our teams died?” he asked quietly once she’d served them both. He hadn’t wanted her to injure herself or burn the food. She looked at him blankly and he nodded. “I added it up and freaked a little.” She jumped up and hurried out of the room, but he knew that she was going to look in a mirror just like he had.

“Oh God, what have I done to us?” she whispered as she returned and fell back into her chair.

“You saved the entire human race from extinction and don’t you forget it!” he snapped, jabbing his fork in her direction. “As long as we’re both alive, I figure I can deal with the side effects.” The last thing he had expected was for her to blame herself. Yes she had shot him up with the C24, but what would have happened if she hadn’t was unthinkable.

“Immortality is one hell of a side effect,” she snorted.

“Immortality means that you can’t die. Lucy died remember? Those things did too,” he reminded them both.

“Once to the heart and once to the head,” she recited what he’d told her to do if he’d mutated.

He nodded. “We’re just not aging.”

 

Earth – Georgia – 213 years after Olduvai

Samantha Grimm did not hate her brother’s ex-wife like she had been prepared to. Jocelyn McCoy was a warm, loving mother and physician, who was simply unable to stand her ex-husband. Jocelyn wasn’t the first woman to find out that the man she had married wasn’t who she had thought, and more importantly wanted, him to be. Rose colored glasses could be just as bad as beer goggles.

Sam knew that John had grown more and more disgusted with humanity over the last two centuries. In her opinion it was mostly because he insisted on going into the worst areas and trying to help restore order. Her brother was a military man through and through, even if he wasn’t one of the spit and polish ones. He’d become more and more outspoken as well the more he witnessed the worst that could happen to people. It was one of the reasons that she’d done her best to get him to go to medical school. John now had the brains for it and more. He also had the time to study anything and everything he wanted. Sam had thought that becoming a doctor would allow John to finally make a break from the military life. Instead the break had only lasted ten years, and he was more pessimistic than ever. At least he had gone in as a doctor instead of just another security officer.

However, Sam knew that underneath that attitude her brother still remained the sensitive boy and young man that only she remembered. He’d been devastated by losing the baby girl that he never thought he’d ever be able to have, to the point where he’d actually gone and gotten drunk, an especially difficult feat for them. The chances of a child inheriting their 24th chromosome pair had simply been too great for them to risk becoming parents deliberately. A mutated child would not, (they hoped not) be able to survive, and could very possibly kill the mother. Although her theory about who would turn and who wouldn’t was somewhat backed up by their survival, there was still no real proof. It was only half of a theory anyway. She wasn’t about to start doing genetic testing on the differences between people who smelled to high heaven and those who smelled like some of the best perfumes.

So, she’d been prepared to hate Jocelyn. Sitting here in the McCoy kitchen listening to Jo-Anna rattle on about the neighbor’s dog Johnny, the bugs she’d seen down at the library, her frustrations about the librarian not letting her read ahead of her age group, and other matters that had caught her attention that day, Sam had to admit that Jocelyn had proven to be a wonderful mother to her niece. The only drawback besides her insisting on custody of Jo-Anna was her new boyfriend.

Allen Johnson stank, pure and simple. The man had the worst smell that Samantha had ever come across. Of course this smell was only obvious to her C24 enhanced nose, but still someone should have noticed that the man wasn’t the nicest guy around. “What is with you and Allen?” Jocelyn asked, and that right there was the perfect opening.

Sam grabbed it with both hands, eager to get that scum away from her niece. “He’s just like this guy I knew once, a team mate of my brother’s.”

“You have a brother?” Jocelyn broke in, surprised.

“Yeah, we’re twins,” Sam admitted. “Anyway, he was a Marine and Portman was on his team. Johnson’s much smoother than Portman ever was, I’ll give him that. Still, that doesn’t excuse him from being the same sort of scum that would tell several women in a high security lock down that he was going to have to strip search them, in spite of the fact that they were looking for an escaped male.”

“SAM!”

“What? I didn’t say that Johnson would do what Portman did. Portman was an obvious jerk who my brother once threatened to shoot. I’m saying that I don’t want to deal with the same sort of guy, no matter how much smoother he is. I just don’t understand what you see in him.” Sam took another drink from her mug.

“That’s really too bad, Doctor Grimm,” came Johnson’s voice from behind Sam. Every sense already heightened by C24 jumped into an even higher gear at the threat. She hadn’t gone by Grimm in over a century. Before he could realize that she was moving, she dove off of her chair and under the table. She heard the trank gun going off, (she recognized the sound from centuries ago) and knowing that it had been aimed at her, pulled Jo-Anna under the table as well.

Johnson cursed and Jocelyn fell to the floor. Before he could pull one of the chairs out of the way and go for them under the table, Sam shoved the chair into his groin. He fell and Sam got herself and Jo-Anna out from under the table. She pulled Jo-Anna into her arms and ran full speed out the door.

Samantha was lucky. She had her comm on her and screeched a call for help out to the local sheriff’s office. She wasn’t going to wait for help though. Johnson had known who she was. The trank gun had been aimed at her and unfortunately the dart had most likely hit Jocelyn. With help on the way for Jocelyn, there was only one thing she could do to keep Jo-Anna far away from Johnson and whoever it was that had helped him figure out who she was. She had to call in her favors with Admiral Christopher Pike and get her and Jo-Anna onto the Enterprise.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Why do my bunnies have a tendency to mutate? Did someone slip them C24 when I wasn’t looking? Duchess, Tjin? Anyone?

U.S.S. Enterprise – Federation flagship – 1 year post Vulcan’s destruction and 213 years post Olduvai massacre

There were perks to being the captain of the Federation flagship, and although Jim Kirk was trying to earn the reputation that he’d caught a glimpse of during Ambassador Spock’s mind meld that his counterpart had, he wasn’t above using those perks to help a friend. It had taken some wheeling and dealing and asking Uhura for help, but he’d managed to get his hands on one of the most potent alcoholic drinks in the known galaxy. Romulan ale was a mild beer compared to San’yko fire water. “Are you sure that this is wise?” Spock questioned as he held up a bottle.

It was one of ten in the small crate that Kirk had traded two movies, three video games, ten pairs of arctic women’s survival gear, one set of rubberized weights, three plants from Botany and five decks of cards with naked females of various species on them. Spock was determined not to ask just where his captain had obtained the cards. He knew enough to realize that he really did not want to know to know which member of their crew had such tastes. “Bones needs this,” Kirk said, more sorrowfully than Spock had expected. “There is only one person he’s been able to talk about his trauma with, and if I know him, he’s been protecting her from his while helping her with hers.”

Spock nodded. That was logical. Doctor McCoy was a person who frequently put the needs of other before his own welfare. “You do not believe that he has dealt with the trauma of his experiences?” Neither he nor Kirk would refer to the Olduvai, Mars massacre in any direct manner. This was out of respect, as he understood it, both for Doctor McCoy’s suffering and for his steadfast refusal to endanger others.

Jim shook his head. “You heard him. He has to be drunk before he can talk about it, and just like he keeps telling you, bottling up these things just makes them fester. He’s got to let all of it out, and if he doesn’t one day he’s going to blow. It may be a long time down the road, but it will happen if he doesn’t get some help.” Spock cocked an eyebrow at him, silently asking him to elaborate.

“Hell Spock, I spent nearly ten years after Tarsus getting into as much trouble as I could dream up without actually doing anything that would hurt anyone else. I would have washed out of the academy long before I ever met you if it wasn’t for Bones. He took one look at me and knew I was traumatized and hadn’t really dealt with it. He must have looked up my medical records because he started getting me to talk about it while we were drunk. Well, now that I know he can’t get drunk on what we were drinking, I figure he knew that conventional therapy hadn’t done me any good so he’d fall back on what worked back when he was a medic; be a friend first and a therapist only when the patient was drunk. It’s time to return the favor.”

This clarified something that Spock had noticed while he was at the academy. “Is this why the bartenders in San Francisco often have therapist licenses?”

Jim nodded. “People who tend to be of higher intelligence usually find that conventional therapy doesn’t work for them. Star Fleet people are the best of the best, so the brass encourages the bars to hire people who can pass Star Fleet Medical’s screening. I know a lot of my class mates ended up talking to as many of the bartenders as they did the doctors. Besides, this is the perfect time to get Bones started. We’re eighteen hours out of Starbase 17 and we’ll have time to deal with the hangovers before we’re needed there.”

“Are you intending to ingest this drink?” Spock asked, horrified.

Jim laughed. “NO! I’m sticking to whatever Bones has on hand and you’re having hot chocolate.” He watched as Spock darted another look at the wooded box on his desk. “You can ask, you know,” he reminded his Vulcan friend.

“I am still uncertain what to ask,” Spock admitted. “There is a great deal that I do not understand about the contents, and much of it is connected to great tragedy.”

“Well the dog tags, that is the metal identification chips, are a sign of military service. The Marines issued each and every soldier a set of tags, whether they were sent to a war zone or not. Every tag was stamped with that Marine’s personal and medical information; name, rank, identification number, religious affiliation, blood type, that sort of thing.” Jim stopped, hoping that by beginning he could get Spock to ask the questions that were troubling him.

“Why are both of Staff Sergeant Grimm’s tags present while there are only single tags of the others? It is obvious that the single tags belonged to other soldiers, but I do not understand the significance of the disparity,” Spock said, puzzled.

Jim picked up the box and opened it. He took out the chain holding Reaper’s tags. “You see the smaller chain attached to the longer one? That is so that the tag on the smaller chain can be removed when the soldier has died. The one on the larger chain remains with the body, sometimes actually implanted into the body, while the other is given to the keeping of one of the living officers. Every member of Reaper’s military family is in here; from Sarge right down to The Kid. He was there when they died.”

“He removed these from their dead bodies,” Spock realized.

“He was their medic, Spock. It was his responsibility. In a way, it still is, because he’s the only one who remembers who they were or that they ever lived.”

“That’s right,” McCoy said as he entered the captain’s quarters. He joined Jim and Spock in the sitting area, flopping down on the couch after setting down a bottle of bourbon on the desk. Spock handed him the bottle he was holding and Jim offered him a glass. “It’s going to take more than that boys,” he said, although he accepted both.

“It’s San’yko fire water Bones. If that can’t get you drunk, nothing can,” Jim said smugly as he poured himself a glass of Bones’ bourbon and handed Spock a mug of dark hot chocolate.

“Where in the galaxy did you get this?” Bones asked surprised as he checked the bottle again.

Jim laughed as he sat down in his desk chair. Spock took the only other chair in the room, being careful not to spill his cocoa. “You know I don’t kiss and tell Bones.”

McCoy nodded. For all Jim Kirk’s reputation as a Romeo, he was surprisingly closed mouthed about his encounters. If he hadn’t been Jim’s roommate for three years he would have thought that the reputation was a cover up for not getting anywhere. As it was, the only real reason that he knew that Jim wasn’t a virgin was his enhanced sense of smell. Not even a sonic shower could totally erase the smell of a pleasant encounter. “So, what do you two want to know?”

“Tell us about them,” Jim requested. It was going to take a very long time to lance these wounds and they’d have to go slowly.

McCoy shot back his glass and poured another before reaching for the dog tags. He pulled one up and cursed. “It would be Goat’s that came up first,” he sighed. He slammed his drink again. “Goat was a religious fanatic. He’d spend his leave time in church, either talking with the priests or helping out where he could. I think he would have been a priest if he could have. He was constantly praying. He’d cut himself every time he sinned. His arms were covered in scars in the shape of crosses.”

By this time the alcohol was beginning to affect him. “He was one of our specialists, a point man. We were tracking the Barron down in the sewers, but we ran into one of the mutated scientists. Damned thing got him, bit him on the neck.” McCoy pointed right at the spot. “I killed that one. Shot him in the head and the heart. Goat and I got one that was still mutating in Genetics. Kid and Portman got the woman. Her arm had been ripped off.”

He had slowed down his drinking now. “I thought I’d lost Goat on the table. His heart stopped and I couldn’t get it going again, but he was mutating. He came to later while Sam and Duke were alone in the Med lab. He killed himself to save them from the monster he was turning into. I couldn’t - it took a long time before I could be involved in medicine again.”

“There was a kid on Tarsus,” Jim said, sipping his own drink. “Kevin was his name. He was one of those who made it, not that the bastard wanted either one of us to. He was only four. He was supposed to have died with his parents, but he bit one of the guards and the guard knocked him out against the wall. He’d sing ‘Take me home Kathleen’ to us because it was the song his mother sang as his lullaby. He didn’t know any others and couldn’t carry a note, but we didn’t care. It was the only thing he could do to take care of us and we weren’t about to tell him he couldn’t.”

It was a sharing of pain, Spock realized. How often had his mother told him that pain shared was pain halved? This was where the Human expression had come from. To complete this ritual, he too must share the pain that he carried within himself. “I had always been more attached to my mother than most of my peers. Often I was treated as though I was less than worthy simply because of my heritage. When I had completed my schooling on Vulcan I was offered a position as a student at the Vulcan Science Academy. I had every intention of accepting as no Vulcan had ever turned down such an appointment, although I had already applied to Star Fleet Academy as well, should I be offered a student’s position. However, when the offer was extended, they insulted my mother. I turned them down and entered Star Fleet.”

“Duke and Destroyer grew up together. Neither one had any family outside of each other and the team. They were solid. Duke was the joker. Destroyer was the rock everyone depended on. Nothing shook Destroyer. Portman could bring up with worst, sick things, and the most Destroyer would do was roll his eyes. He loved playing fruit baseball with Mac. The only time I ever saw Duke cry was when we carried Destroyer’s body into the Med lab.” McCoy was definitely drunk now. He was actually sliding a little on the couch. “They pulled him down through some grating. They probably ate him. He was too good a guy to turn. I copied his tag. He was still wearing it when they took him, his and Sarge’s.”

He laughed. “Portman got killed when one of them used him like a kid playing whack a mole.” He demonstrated, swinging his arm from side to side. “Still a bad fucking way to die though, even for a sick fuck like him. Guy actually told my sister that he was going to have to strip search her. I almost shot him right then and there.”

McCoy shot up, his drunkenness obviously affecting his perception because he was moving far too fast for a Human again. “Now you listen up Hobgoblin!” he said shaking his finger in Spock’s face. “You’re as much Human as you are Vulcan. You’re supposed to be strongly attached to the females in your family. It’s instinct. Human males are genetically programmed to protect their females and young children. It’s evolutionary trait. I’m surprised you didn’t kick the guy’s ass, at least verbally for insulting your mom.”

Spock looked vaguely smug. “I did.” That set both McCoy and Kirk to laughing. Their sharing ritual lasted long into the ship’s night.


	10. Chapter 10

San Francisco, Earth – Star Fleet Headquarters – 1 year post the loss of Vulcan, 213 years past the Olduvai massacre

As an admiral, Christopher Pike had a lot of connections and dealt with a lot of politics. Over the course of his career he had made a lot more, including a certain set of nearly immortal twins and had also gained a lot of experience in dealing with emergencies. So although he was surprised when Samantha Grimm had burst into his home office he did not panic even though she looked terrified and was carrying a small sleeping child. He simply asked what was wrong.

She’d been Doctor Sam Beckett when he’d first known her, an engineer with a passion for archeology. She’d always kept up on the latest findings in the field, especially those inside the Sol system. She’d been a civilian scientist and he’d been a hotshot kid straight out of the academy. She’d saved his life, at the expense of her secret. Years later, at the other end of his career, her brother had saved his life as well, although he hadn’t been able to restore Pike’s ability to walk. Nothing could have done that. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for either of the twins.

The story spilled out of Samantha; her brother’s marriage and divorce, her niece and the miracle that she’d been born alive and Human, the new boyfriend and his attack, her fear that Olduvai had been discovered once more by unethical, or simply too ignorant and too smart for everyone’s good, scientists. “You’re the only one who has known the name I was born with in over a century Chris, aside from my brother. The only way that I can think of that Johnson would have learned it is if he or someone close to him watched the security footage in the computers at Olduvai.”

Pike nodded. With the threat not only to the Human race, but every other humanoid race out there, that lay dormant at Olduvai they could take no chances. He would need to go to the Federation president herself and Sam and Jo-Anna would have to be placed in the hands of those who could protect them best while keeping them far away from the danger that this man and his associates presented. He had to send them to Enterprise.

Two hours later Admiral Pike sat in the office of the secretary to the President of the Federation and fidgeted with the arm of his mobile chair, going over everything that he’d done so far. Doctor Samantha McCoy and her niece Jo-Anna McCoy were on their way to Starbase 17 where the Enterprise would be picking up the Vulcan Ambassador and his party in order to bring them to Earth for a vital conference.

In fact, the ladies should be spending most of their trip to the starbase in the company of the Vulcans; that is if his orders were carried out properly. There was no race in the Federation that valued children as much as the Vulcans did, especially now. They were even attempting to leave their cultural prejudices in the past as the remaining members of their race were, due to the unfortunate circumstances, forced to become closely acquainted with members of alien races. Personally Pike thought it would do the Vulcan children and their elders all the good in the galaxy to meet new people that would challenge them. The only thing better for grief than a new challenge was time, and this would distract them as the necessary time passed.

Pike had sent a message on to Enterprise which should be reentering Federation space within the next half hour detailing to Kirk what was going on, or rather asking McCoy to tell the Enterprise command team about the threat at Olduvai. He’d informed Mr. Scott that he was getting a new recruit, a humanoid civilian scientist and her minor child. Like the Vulcans, Doctor Vikli’s people were almost extinct and Scotty was to make certain that the child was kept out of as much danger as possible, starting by installing extra safety measures in Sickbay. “Admiral, the President will see you now,” the secretary said. Pike thanked the female alien, whose race he simply couldn’t recall at the moment before wheeling himself into the office.

 

Federation Starbase 17 – One year post Vulcan’s destruction – 213 years post Olduvai massacre

 

“May I ask just what is it that your niece is doing Doctor McCoy?” T’aku asked, watching as Jo-Anna attempted to skip rather than walk at her aunt’s side.

“She’s trying to skip,” Sam answered amused. “It is a skill that most Human children learn at this age, but once they’ve mastered it, rarely use it after a few years.”

“What race is her mother and how has her dual heritage affected her learning such skills?” T’aku asked. She was interested as, due to the disproportionate numbers of Vulcan males to females, her brother was currently searching for a non-Vulcan bondmate. Children with dual heritages had become a source of great interest for her.

“Actually, her mother is completely Human. It is her father and I that are not. You see, many thousands of years ago the survivors of an alien disaster settled on Earth. They knew that they did not have the numbers necessary to maintain their race, but they could breed with Humans, although not easily. My brother, I and Jo-Anna are the last of those who can trace their ancestry back to those survivors. We’re mostly Human though.” ‘It was true, in a manner of speaking,’ Sam thought as she watched Jo-Anna finally fall into the proper pattern for skipping.

“All we gots is one chromosome extra,” Jo-Anna informed the Vulcan woman. “The rest are all normal Human ones.” She was very happy. She’d finally managed to skip! Betty, who sat at the table next to their teacher’s desk, had been teasing her all week about not being able to do it right. To make it even better, soon she’d be able to show her daddy and not over a comm letter either!

She was going to get to see her daddy in person, maybe even get a hug from him. He always told her that he loved her more than anything in his letters, but she couldn’t get a hug from a letter. She wondered what kind of hugs her daddy gave. Maybe she should give him one first so he knew how to do it properly.

Vulcans didn’t hug. Daddy said that was because they were touch telepaths and touching someone enough to get a hug was too much touching for them. “Miss T’aku, what do Vulcans do instead of hugging? Daddy says that hugging a Vulcan would hurt them if they didn’t know you were going to do it and couldn’t turn their telepathy down so they couldn’t hear you. How do you turn your telepathy down? Does it have controls like my comm unit or is it like humming really loud in your head so you can’t hear? Can Vulcans really hear better than Humans? How about a dog? Did you have any pets on Vulcan? Do you have one now? I bet I could get you a pet if you don’t have one. Daddy says that Hobgoblin really likes cats. I know a shop that usually has kittens. Why are baby animals always cuter than grown up ones?”

Sarek began answering Jo-Anna’s questions, knowing that if even one question was unanswered the child would most likely pursue the answer to a point that was far beyond polite or reasonable. “Vulcans touch their fingers to the cheek of the person they wish to ‘hug’. Unexpected touch does indeed hurt, but that is because most people have very loud emotions and thoughts. It is rather like a person yelling in your ear when you are not expecting it. We do not turn our telepathic abilities down so much as we build mental walls that keep other people out of our minds. When we are expecting a touch we can either build the wall thicker or thin it as needed.

“Vulcans do hear more than Humans, although I would not say that was better. Sounds that do not affect a Human can be very painful to a Vulcan. I do not know the hearing range of a Terran canine. My son had a pet sehlat when he was a child, but he died many years ago. I do not have a pet at this time. My position as an ambassador does not allow me the necessary time that caring for a pet requires, so you do not need to procure a pet for us.

“All infants possess ‘cuteness’ so that they will appeal to their parents. This attribute helps the parent and child to bond one to another. It is a biological survival trait as infants are generally helpless and need a great deal of care. Have I answered your questions satisfactorily?”

“WOW!” Jo-Anna stopped in shock and stared at Sarek. “Nobody but Aunt Sam ever did that before! Mommy usually forgets about half my questions and makes me go look up the answers myself. She says that’s the best way to learn because one answer usually leads to more questions and nobody knows everything.”

“That is quite true,” Sarek agreed.

“Ambassador, the Enterprise has signaled the station and has an arrival time of two point three seven hours from now,” Elkeck said as he returned from his information retrieval errand.

“Is there anything interesting that we can do for two point three seven hours?” Jo-Anna asked.

Elkeck stiffened, but Sarek shot him a glance that told the younger Vulcan that the child had not meant to insult him and that he had better respond appropriately or the ambassador would not be pleased with his actions. “There is a technology museum as well as an aquarium that are close to the docking areas,” he offered, not believing that this child would wish to do either. Such an intellectual pursuit would not be pleasing to such a bouncy child.

“Oh cool!” Jo-Anna exclaimed, bouncing on her toes. Then she stopped and grimaced up at her aunt. “We won’t have time to do both will we?”

“No, but the Enterprise should be here for at least a day. Maybe we can go with your daddy, Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock to the Aquarium when they are done with their duties. I don’t think that your daddy would be all that interested in the tech museum,” Sam offered. Inwardly she smiled. She knew damned well that her little brother would not want to see the tech museum. From here she could see one of the advertisement displays and the theme of the moment was space transportation. No way in hell would her aviatophobic brother want to set foot in a place that tried to teach people about one of his worst fears.

Which is not to say that John Grimm wouldn’t be the first one to step into a transporter or a shuttle or even a starship if he had a good enough reason; other people in danger always being at the top of his list. John had always been a protector, even when she was trying to protect him. No matter how the bullies that they had dealt with as children had made him cry, if they tried anything with anyone else John was always the first one to jump in to defend the innocent child. That was the reason that she had known he wouldn’t turn at Olduvai. He was too good of a person.

“Ok Aunt Sam, but I don’t want to miss when the Enterprise gets here. Can you tell me when it’s time to go? I see stuff I like and I forget to look at a clock. Do you think that they have a display about the Enterprise and Mr. Scotty? His transwarp beaming is so cool! I don’t get how it works, but I’m glad that he got Admiral Archer’s dog back. Do you think that they’ll have transporter schematics?” Continuing with her rapid fire delivery of questions, Jo-Anna McCoy dragged her aunt and four Vulcans along in her wake as she tried to race towards the museum.


	11. Chapter 11

U.S.S. Enterprise – Federation flagship – 1 year after Vulcan’s destruction and 213 after the Olduvai massacre – 12 hours after John Grimm’s confession

It was a somber group that filed into the senior officer’s conference room the next morning. New orders from Admiral Pike had been waiting for them as soon as they were in communication range of the Federation. All of the Enterprise command crew were to be included in the special briefing, so they sat down at the table, patiently waiting for Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock to release the lock on their orders. Spock and Jim were both suffering from hangovers, but that had only lasted long enough for Bones to stop by Sickbay and grab a couple of hypos, so that did not prove to be a detriment.

When they were all seated Jim gave Lieutenant Uhura a nod, giving her permission to bring up their orders on the table screens. The transmission asked for certain codes held by the captain and first officer, making it one of the most secure used by Star Fleet. The look on Jim’s face was grave as he inputted his half of the necessary codes. Spock inputted his own codes, not giving a twitch to show that this was anything unusual.

Admiral Pike appeared on the screen, his face pale. “Enterprise, this mission is to supersede every other order. We have information that leads us to believe that a classified scientific facility has been discovered. This base was shut down for damned good reasons. The information you will receive about this base is the highest classified information in the entire Federation. No single secret of any one planet or even any government claiming any measure of space is more dangerous. Doctor McCoy will be in charge of this mission. Doctor McCoy, I’m sorry about this, but you more than anyone understand my reasons. We need Reaper.”

At this Kirk gasped out loud and Spock straightened even further in his seat. They both shot Bones a concerned look. Bones had gone white at the mention of his handle ID. “The information we have is minimal, someone recognized the scientist that was rescued. Mr. Scott, you will be in charge of that scientist while she is on board and the safety of her minor child. We can take no chances with that child. I want you to build every safety feature that you can think of into Sickbay. The child will be there when not with Doctor Vikli. At the present time they are at Starbase 17 in the company of the Vulcan Ambassador’s party. You will pick them up together and send the Vulcans on when you reach your destination.

“Doctor McCoy, yes it is that base and that scientist. Brief the command team and choose the members of the team you will take with you. You have complete control of this mission. Take who you want, arm them how you want, I’m not about to second guess you. Your orders are to keep any civilians that you find alive if possible. I know that it might not be. Sanitize the base. Blow the whole damned thing into ash if that’s what you decide is necessary. Just keep it from happening again. Pike out.”

Bones closed his eyes before taking a deep breath and shoving all of his emotions down into a locked mental box. It was the only way he was going to get through this, and at least this time he had people he could lean on when it was all over. He opened his eyes and in a completely blank voice began the briefing that he’d been ordered to give. “233 years ago, or thereabouts, archeologists made a discovery in the Nevada desert. It was an alien transporter technology that they named the Ark. On the other side of the Ark they found an ancient city on Mars. They named the site Olduvai. They settled in to do what archeologists do best; unbury the past and try to figure out what had caused the apparent abandonment of the site. They were bankrolled by the UAC, one of the main groups behind the Eugenics War.”

Kirk was grateful that this was his crew. Not one of them did anything other than listen intently, in spite of the fact that Bones was scaring the hell out of them. An unemotional Doctor McCoy was as alien to them as a laughing Spock, and a hell of a lot scarier. “We know now that they were already experimenting with the Augments. So it should come as no surprise to anyone that they also set up weapons and genetics labs at the facility that was built to study the ancient city. Everything was quiet for 20 years. That changed when the man in charge of the genetics lab recreated what we think was the cause of the abandonment of the city.”

“How sure are we that this was the cause?” Lieutenant Mathews, known to one and all as Cupcake thanks to his run-in with Captain Kirk before he joined Starfleet, asked. Thanks to a bureaucratic mistake on the part of someone at Star Fleet Headquarters he was in charge of security, at least Jim hoped it was a mistake because it was really not a good indicator of Star Fleet’s ship security branch that a green lieutenant was the head of the flagship’s security department.

“I’m damned certain because you don’t shield a baby from time, which was how the archeologists found the first bodies of the city’s original inhabitants; a female shielding a small child,” Reaper stated. “There were no written records found, so I could be wrong but I very much doubt it. What we do know for certain was that they were humanoid and at some point in time they developed a synthetic 24th chromosome. We think that this was a medical experiment designed to combat disease because it increased the healing factor by about 50 times Human normal.

“The UAC genetics team recreated this synthetic chromosome and tested it on a prisoner named Stahl who had been sentenced to death. The man mutated, becoming a monster my sister Samantha later nicknamed the Barron. Stahl escaped custody and my team was called in when the head of the genetics team instituted a quarantine lock down. I was a Marine medic for the Rapid Response Tactical Squad. We arrived at Olduvai 85 minutes after Stahl escaped.

“By that time five of the scientists in the quarantine area had been infected by Stahl. One had been killed. My team of eight escorted Sam, who was one of the archeologists, to retrieve the research data. Our orders were to ensure that she completed her mission, find and rescue any survivors, and enforce the quarantine at all costs. The rest of the scientists and their families who were at the facility had been kept out of the quarantine area so they were evacuated back to Earth to be quarantined there. Four hours later we had killed all five of the infected geneticists, four of them in self defense and one because Sarge had realized what was going on. Portman, Destroyer, and Mac had been killed. Goat had committed suicide because he was infected and mutating.

“Stahl escaped through the Ark to Earth and began killing or mutating everyone in his path. We followed him to try and keep the infection from spreading. Two hours later when the quarantine was lifted the only survivors were myself and my sister. Approximately 175 people were killed or mutated and killed within two hours. Those who were in the second stage of infection attacked with their bare hands and teeth, sometimes sharp objects. Those who had fully mutated seemed to have regained something of their minds, but they remained cannibalistic. Sam and I were also infected, but we didn’t mutate, not like that anyway. For us, the chromosome worked pretty much the way it was supposed to, except that it stopped us from aging.” Reaper closed his eyes once more, and admitted for the first time, “There might be one other survivor. Sarge was infected and mutating when I sent him back through the Ark to Olduvai and tossed an ST grenade after him. He might have been fast enough to escape the explosion.

“Let me make this perfectly clear. The infection is spread through bites and is communicable to ANY humanoid. If Sarge is still alive, he will attempt to kill anyone who will not mutate when infected. He will choose to infect those who will mutate. To someone who is infected and mutated, a non-mutated person is either meat or a potential new playmate. Sam’s theory is that there is a certain genetic marker that sets off the mutation. I do know that over the last two centuries I have learned that people with certain personality types smell differently to me than others. Simply put, those who are more likely to go insane or give in to violent behaviors stink.

“As you might have guessed by now, the scientist that Pike is sending us is my sister Sam and the child is my daughter Jo-Anna. Mr. Scott, if anything happens to my daughter I will dissect you alive without benefit of anything to dull the pain. Do you understand me?” The question was delivered in the same emotionless voice that Reaper had spoken the rest of the briefing, so it took Scotty a second to realize just what it was that he had said.

“Of course Doctor, you know you can count on me! She’ll be as safe as if she were home on Earth in her own bed!” with that declaration Scotty jumped up, and after getting permission from Kirk to leave, ran out of the room and down to Engineering. He had a huge project to get to work on and only six hours to get it done.

“Cupcake, your team will need to prepare solid projectile weaponry for the team that Doctor McCoy picks out. Phasers will not work on anyone who has mutated because of this infection,” Kirk ordered.

“I’m more likely to pick out non-humaniods, so be warned that you may have to make adjustments to any weapon you make,” Reaper told the lieutenant.

“Yes sirs,” Cupcake nodded before going off to set up his department’s part in this mission. There were several non-humaniods in his department and he hoped that the doctor would pick them first. They already knew how to fight with just about any weapon they could pick up.

“Bones, take Huey, Dewy, and Louie with you. I seriously doubt if your sergeant is still alive that he will have any luck against three Horta,” Jim recommended. “They’re just as fast and deadly while being a whole lot harder to kill.”

“Good idea Jim,” Reaper nodded. “Nyota, I’ve got some old communications equipment that I’d like you to take a look at. I want you to see if you can adapt it or have your department create something like it for everyone who goes down to Olduvai. I don’t want anyone to be able to turn their comm gear off. I want you and the bridge crew to be able to see and hear what’s going on no matter what. I don’t care if we’re cussing up a storm or singing drunken ballads about Star Fleet admirals. No one loses contact with the ship.”

Uhura nodded, the sheer amount of fear in Doctor McCoy’s eyes telling her more than she wanted to know. This was one of the things that had happened before and at least one of his friends had died when they were alone and no one could contact them.

“Chekov, I need you at the transporter. Figure out anything you need to ensure that you can keep a good transporter lock on us. As far as I know, there isn’t anything to prevent that, but I want you to cover all the bases.” Reaper stood up and looked at the remaining officers. “I’ve got to go pick out the away team. The rest of you, do what you do best and pray that it’s enough. Nyota, come with me darlin’.”

Reaper led Uhura to his quarters, ushering her in like the gentleman he always acted like around her. It wasn’t really something he had done to separate himself from the soldier he had been. It was just nice to be able to treat a lady like a lady instead of a coworker or another soldier. He’d missed being able to do that. After showing her into his sleeping area, he knelt down by his bunk and slid one of the long drawers out. Inside was a long case, one that was typically used to store weaponry. He opened the case and pulled out the gun he had taken with him when he’d left the Marine Corps.

Uhura wasn’t interested in historical weapons, so she couldn’t tell when it was made or much about it other than it looked like it shot solid projectiles. What she found most interesting about it was that it was bio-locked. When Doctor McCoy picked it up the lock lit up a bright green, and she could hear a female computer voice say: “RRTS Special Opps clearance verified; handle id – Reaper.”


	12. Chapter 12

Security Office - Federation Starbase 17 – 1 year past Vulcan’s destruction and 213 years after the Olduvai massacre

Lieutenant Commander Leonard McCoy charged into the security office with his captain and first officer at his heels. He planted his fists on the chief’s desk and barked “What do you want?!” in the man’s face. He didn’t care that the chief was a Human twice his size. He was not happy about being delayed meeting his daughter and didn’t care who knew it.

“Doctor McCoy I presume?” the chief asked rather sarcastically. He was used to people not being happy to hear from his office. Being a cop had never been a profession full of positive encounters with random civilians, but few had the guts to yell at him before he’d made any accusations. Snips, gripes or put downs he was used to, but actually yelling he rarely received, mostly because he towered over nearly everyone he met. He reached up and touched a wall screen, putting a transmission up.

The screen showed a man wearing a sheriff’s uniform, which not only meant that he was from Earth, but from somewhere in what used to be the United States. Bones knew that particular man and his uniform quite well. Ed Harrison was Jocelyn’s father’s best friend and as such had hated Leonard McCoy from first sight. “McCoy? I’ve got news for you. I know you’re not going to be happy with me telling you something you don’t want to hear anything about, but the law says I’ve got to tell you so don’t go yelling at me about it.” The look on Ed’s face showed just how likely he thought that would happen. “Jocelyn’s been attacked and her neighbor has run off with her little girl.”

“Is Jocelyn ok?” McCoy interrupted. With what he knew from Pike, it made sense that some kind of attack had occurred, and since he knew Jo-Anna was safe with Sam, Jocelyn was his next concern. If the people behind the attack knew anything about C24, whatever they had used would not have been kind to Jocelyn’s body.

“She had an allergic reaction to the sedative used in the tranquilizer dart. She didn’t make it which is why I have to tell you about this. Don’t worry though, I’ll find her daughter and give her to Jocelyn’s parents. You don’t have to do anything,” Ed sneered.

“Damn it!” McCoy roared. “I am so damned sick and tired of all of you judging me for something I haven’t even done! Yes, I told my wife that I didn’t want kids of my own, not that it was anyone else’s business! I’m the one who tried to get her to look at adoption for God’s sake! I had sound medical reasons for that. Jo-Anna had a one percent chance of surviving the pregnancy without being born with the serious birth defects that I happen to be a carrier of! If the baby had survived with those defects, Jocelyn probably wouldn’t have! The most likely result was a miscarriage! But not one of you wanted to listen to what I had to say about it! I’m the one in the wrong because I was a horrible husband because I hated kids! I don’t hate kids! Jo-Anna is a miracle and I love her!”

The Sheriff reared back in surprise at McCoy’s rant. “You’re the one who doesn’t have to worry about Jo-Anna. Admiral Pike has already sent her out here along with my sister; the nameless neighbor that you just tried to imply had kidnapped my daughter and attacked my ex. I know perfectly well that Sam was probably the only reason Jo-Anna got out of there alive. I’m meeting them and their escort in less than fifteen minutes. And you can tell Jocelyn’s parents; like Hell I’ll be giving up my daughter! Do something useful and find the asshole that killed Jocelyn!” With that McCoy terminated the call, turned around and left the security office. Spock followed him silently, while Jim gave the chief a ‘what can you do?’ shrug before leaving himself.

Bones was muttering every curse he’d ever heard in his nearly two centuries of military service to himself when Jim and Spock caught up with him. He’d learned a lot in that amount of time, and some of it was quite creative. “Doctor, I am not sure that the odds you quoted were accurate,” Spock said, more questioning than condemning as he might have been in other circumstances. He wanted the doctor to know that he sympathized with the doctor’s loss, but had no notion of how to do so, instead changing the subject by pointing out his questionable math. That at least would give McCoy the opportunity to release his emotions in their usual verbal sparring.

“Spock, in combat I can give you the odds in almost any situation right down to the decimal points that you love so much. In medicine, it just doesn’t work that way. There are too many different factors that affect the situation, up to and including the personalities of the people involved. The point I was trying to make was that Jo-Anna’s chances had been in the cellar for not being born with some form of birth defect, if she had been born at all, and considering what those who had those defects were like; Jocelyn’s life was seriously at risk as well. It doesn’t split very well according to the samples I’ve checked. That’s why I call Jo-Anna a miracle,” Bones sighed. He glanced over and saw the almost tentative look on the Vulcan’s face. He was getting better at reading Spock’s mood. “Don’t worry about it. That rant has been a long time coming. I never did get along with my in-laws and they’re connected to half the town.”

By this time they had reached the main concourse of the station, and Bones leaned over the railing from the top section of offices to look down on the level of the shops and entertainment venues. It didn’t take him long to see the small group of Vulcans and two Human females he was looking for. He shuddered a little at the sight of the billboard and was amused to realize that Sam had taken, (or more likely had been taken by Jo-Anna from the way his little girl was pulling on her aunt’s hand,) through a tech museum for space transportation. “There they are,” he pointed. “If we hurry we can meet them at the fountain.”

The fountain took up a large amount, (relatively for a space station) of the floor space in the middle of the level. It wasn’t a fountain like one someone would find on a planet, where water was a naturally renewing resource. Instead of falling water, the fountain had colored plasma held in shifting magnetic fields. It was actually a creative way to deal with the problem of transferring the plasma from one level to another while running it through a public venue. It was an impressive sight, but the only thing Bones was interested in was the sight of his daughter. “DADDY!” she called.

Bones turned, and saw Jo-Anna running towards him. She had dropped her aunt’s hand and had run ahead of the group the moment she had caught sight of him. He caught her as she launched herself into his arms. “God I missed you baby girl,” he whispered in her ear. He pulled back slightly so that he could look her over. “Are you ok?”

“Uh huh,” she agreed. “Daddy, did you know that Vulcans smell stinky because they used to be like Klingons and get into lots of fights, but they choose to be good which makes them only stinky instead of horrible?” Bones smiled at her even as the question of whether or not she had inherited his C24 was answered. At least it hadn’t affected her in a negative way. She was still the animated and happy little girl he loved.

“And Mr. Scotty has a spot in the museum for the transwarp beaming he did with Admiral Archer’s dog? They didn’t show how it worked, but they did have stuff about regular transporters. Aunt Sam said you wouldn’t want to go to the museum, but you’d probably like the aquarium. Why don’t you like tech museums, Daddy?”

Bones laughed, his daughter’s high spirited and carefree chatter bringing the first bright spot to his soul in far too long. “Yes I knew that about Vulcans. I serve with one, remember? I like tech museums just fine baby girl, and I’m sure that Scotty will be pleased as punch to find out that he got a spot in one. I just don’t like to talk about or look at things that scare me.”

This was such a shock to Jo-Anna that she didn’t notice the adults around her taking care of the business of diplomacy needed to get them all back to the Enterprise. “I didn’t know that! What in the museum is scary to you Daddy? Mommy said that everyone is scared of something and that we should never make fun of what people are scared of even if we think it’s silly because everyone is scared of something different. Molly is scared of spiders and I’m scared of snakes, even though I know that snakes are just animals and don’t want to hurt anyone. Jeff is scared of heights and he can’t even stand on his desk without crying.”

“To me space is scary and transporters are even scarier,” Bones admitted. “Space is too big and there are too many things that can go wrong with the ships that people use to get from one planet to another. Transporters take you apart, beam you through space, and then try and put you back together. When I was little I knew a guy who used a type of transporter that belonged to some aliens and only half of him got to where he was going. He got fixed up ok. The doctors gave him a replacement for his legs so he could get around, but I really haven’t trusted transporters since then.” He gave Jim a slight nod when the captain motioned that they were going to go back to the Enterprise, ending up towards the back of the group as they moved back to the docking area.

“Pinky?” Sam asked, amused that it was what had happened to the cowardly jerk that had manned the ARK controls that was the cause of her brother’s fear of transporters. ARK travel was nothing like transporter travel except in the broadest sense. No one routinely puked after transporting after all.

“Pinky,” Bones agreed. Memories of the mutated version of the man still gave him the shudders, although the Human version had just creeped him out. No matter what, he still checked himself out each and every time after beaming anywhere. He didn’t want any part of his anatomy being left behind or sent somewhere the rest of him wasn’t.  
“But you work in space!” Jo-Anna said, confused. “And you use transporters all the time.”

“Well baby girl, just because it scares me doesn’t mean that I should let that keep me from doing what I need to do,” Bones pointed out. “If I did that, then I’d never get anything done.”

Jo-Anna pondered this simple truth as her father carried her onto his ship. The young girl’s mind was making deep connections between concepts that had never occurred to her before, and wouldn’t normally occur to her unless she was much older because of her enhanced intelligence. It wasn’t just the meaning of bravery and heroism, but also the fact that such things were a part of everyday life when ordinary people had to face and overcome their fears. It was the fact that not facing such fears could paralysis a person and interfere not only with their lives, but the lives of those around them. As deep as a subject as it was for such a young child, it also made her extremely proud of her father that he would face his fears and not let them hurt him or anyone else.


	13. Chapter 13

USS Enterprise – Federation Flag Ship – Enroute to Sol System

 

Doctor McCoy was extremely grateful for the support staff that Star Fleet had assigned to the Enterprise’s medical department. Christine Chapel, who had become the head nurse the same way he’d become CMO, was not only competent beyond her years, she was also well versed in caring for genius children. Jo-Anna had taken to her immediately. That was a good thing because today he had to get ready for their stop at Mars, which was why he and Sam were in the ship’s smallest gym, and couldn’t be in Sickbay with Jo-Anna.

When Jim had suggested that he take the three Horta crewmen, he had been serious about it being a good idea. They had encountered the Horta race when the Federation mining colony that had settled on their home world had accidentally begun a war with the only living adult Horta, the Great Mother, by destroying hundreds of silicon nodules in their excavations of a new lower level of their mining operation. That new lower level of the mine had turned out to be the nursery of the entire Horta race, and the nodules were in fact eggs containing the next generation.

The Enterprise had been called in to find the ‘monster’ that was killing off the miners. Instead, Jim Kirk and Spock found the Great Mother Horta defending her children. Between Spock’s telepathic abilities and Jim Kirk’s unconventional methods of thinking a cease fire was called between the combatants and a treaty was drawn up. The Horta would join in the miners operation and take half of the profits. As the Horta were the universe’s most natural miners, being creatures of silicon and minerals that ate solid rock the mining operation’s production rate would be vastly increased.

As this was one of the Federation’s main source of certain metals that were desperately needed to rebuild the ships lost at Vulcan, the Federation and Star Fleet had been willing to bend over backwards in order to reach an agreement with the Great Mother. Fortunately all she had wanted, beyond these creatures to stop killing her children, was for some of her children to be able to experience the universe beyond their underground world. The Federation had offered places to three of the Horta in Star Fleet, without the children needing to take the necessary placement tests or other paperwork. The Great Mother had agreed - as long as the places were on board the Enterprise. In just six months time three young Horta, whom Jim had immediately dubbed Huey, Dewy and Louie, had joined the crew and had proven themselves to be valuable assets.

Now Reaper looked over the team that he had picked to go to Mars. The three Horta, who each looked like a family sized sausage and cheese pizza to him with a small black box (their version of translators) in the middle, two Po’fun’kii (an insect species that resembled pillbugs that were as tall as he was when standing upright) twins named F’rik’ and F’rak’, and Cupcake’s contribution – an Andorian (an insect race that had developed a humanoid appearance) named Jakar, a Tellarite (a porcine race) named Gav, and a Meroraw (a feline race) named Stormskies. “Alright, everyone’s practiced with the weapons. Remember, one bullet in the brain and one to the heart are the only things that will take down a mutated person permanently as far as we know. Huey, Dewy, and Louie’s acid attack should produce the same results.”

Reaper paused for a moment and made sure to focus his attention on each one of his people. “The boys are also the only ones that I can guarantee will be unable to become infected. Just because we know that the infection is contractible by any humanoid, does not mean that anyone who is not humanoid is immune. On top of that, one of the people we suspect of being involved with this has already killed an innocent woman. So I want all of you to be careful down there.”

“These are the basic plans for the Olduvai complex,” Sam said, gesturing to a view screen behind her. “We’ve drawn them from memory of what it was like over two centuries ago, so they may not be entirely accurate. This base was built to support up to one hundred Humans for a period of six months without any outside contact. At this end is the archeological dig. Not only will you have to contend with keeping an eye out for possible attack, but the dig itself is likely to be unstable.”

Reaper snorted at what he considered to be an understatement. “Hush you,” Sam said without any heat. “At this end we have the atrium and the Ark room.”

“That’s where Sarge’s body should be, if he didn’t survive the grenade I sent after him. The Ark itself is a transportation device. You do not want to trigger it under any circumstances. One of the early attempts to use it resulted in one man’s ass being sent to one planet while he went to another. He survived the loss of his legs and the lower portion of his torso, but the worst part was that he was fully conscious for the entire incident. They called that major turbulence or a tiny, little mistake.” Reaper swept his eyes down the line once more, noting the reactions of each. “Remember who built this place. They had no morals and no respect for sentient life at all. I was only there for four hours. There’s no telling what else these jackasses might have been hiding down there.”

Sam nodded. “I lived there for ten years and I was shocked at what some of the scientists were doing. I don’t think most of the other scientists had a clue either, but as each project was being worked on by its own team and all of them were classified, they could have gotten away with anything.”

“Which is why we have to go over that base inch by inch,” Reaper told them. “We not only have to make sure that the infection has been completely eradicated, we also need to make certain that there aren’t any other nasty little surprises waiting to be unleashed. If there is something that you don’t understand, whether it is scientific or cultural, ask. Sam and I will answer any questions. Not knowing something could kill you down there. That’s why you’re getting the full story even though it’s outside your clearance levels.”

“The scientists that are likely to be there,” Jakar asked, “what are the chances that they are already infected?”

“Since we don’t know how long they’ve been there? If Sarge did survive, pretty high. I don’t think that any of them would be stupid enough to inject themselves with the pure samples that were left in Carmack’s lab though. Those are the only two ways this stuff spreads, that we know of. It’s hard to do a medical investigation during a firefight.”

“What should we be looking for as infection signs?” F’rik’ clacked.

“The first sign is a bite mark on the neck,” Sam answered. “After that, the person will go into a death coma. There will be no signs of life at all. The next sign is that the mutations will begin, starting with the hands.”

“If you see someone in the mutation stage you will actually be able to see the person’s physical structure shifting into the new stage. The first one that I got a good look at had an expanded head with eleven eyes. I had no clue at all that he used to be Human. I honestly thought I had just met and killed my first alien. The only thing that kept me from hating myself for that was the fact that he was trying to eat me at the time and had bitten one of my teammates,” Reaper told them, his voice grim.

“Self preservation is always an understandable reason for such actions Doctor McCoy,” Dewy’s translator said.

“He means that simply because you don’t recognize a creature as being Human, doesn’t mean that at one time it wasn’t,” Sam explained patiently. She liked the Hortas. They were a very practical people, and the boys were filled with curiosity. She turned back to the view screen, this time bringing up the only picture they had of one of the mutations. “This is only one of the various mutations that occurred. Gav, Jakar, Stormskies, remember that even though you are probably immune, you’re still on a mutation’s menu. They are cannibals.”

“And anything made of meat is considered fair game as a meal,” Reaper repeated. “When I found the second scientist he was eating the laboratory animals – alive. And I’m not talking about anything like a Klingon’s diet. This was something that a Human in their correct mental state would never think of doing.”

“Then if they’re infected they’ll act insane?” Stormskies asked.

Gav grunted. “I’ve never been able to tell what was crazy in a Human or not,” he said sourly.

“What’s worse is it’s the civilians that you have to really watch out for,” Jakar muttered back. “At least the ones in Star Fleet have rules that they follow.” The calico officer shot her teammates a sour look. That wasn’t an answer to her question.

“Yes, they will act crazy. They will attack you with their bare hands or any sharp object within their reach. They won’t care if you shoot them. They won’t stop until their brain or their heart explodes. That’s why phasers won’t work. They heal too quickly for the effects of a phaser blast to do any real damage. Romulan or Klingon disruptors might work, but if you have them and bring them, don’t depend on them. As for the civilians, as long as they cooperate and don’t attack you, treat them like hostile quarantine patients, because no one and nothing is getting off of that base until we clear it and them.” Reaper did his best not to flinch as he heard ‘Yes sir!’ coming from the away team. This trip was already bringing the memories too close to the surface. “Go see Lieutenant Uhura for your communications gear and Ensign Chekov for whatever it is he’s come up with to keep a transporter lock on us. Dismissed until thirteen hundred.”

The eight sentients walked or crawled out of the gym, already discussing how much ammunition they should bring and who had any type of disruptors in their possession or that they could get a hold of. Gav was still complaining about how was he supposed to figure out if a Human was crazy or not when he didn’t know what was normal? That however, was normal for a Tellarite, one of the most argumentative and stubborn races in the Federation.

“You ok?” Sam asked, as she wiped the information off the view screen.

“I’m leading a bunch of kids straight into Hell,” Reaper sighed. “Ask me when it’s all over.”

At thirteen hundred, the away team met in one of the rooms just off of the transporter. Reaper did the weapons check himself, not trusting that these kids would really know what to look for. He on the other hand, had firsthand knowledge of just about every way a weapon like this could go wrong. Uhura personally saw to the communications gear, making sure that not only would the small microphones not interfere with movement, but that every camera was also up to her personal standards. Chekov ran around with a type of booster that would magnify their transporter signals, attaching them in different ways depending on the species of the away team member. “Ready,” he announced, going over to the transporter controls.

“Same here,” Uhura said, and left to go back to her station on the bridge so that she could monitor the signals.  
“Huey, Dewy, Louie, Stormskies, the four of you are with me; the rest of you, with Sam. My group goes first,” Reaper said and stepped up onto the platform. The four crewmen took their positions and Reaper nodded for Chekov to send them down.


	14. Chapter 14

Mars – Olduvai facility

 

Being somewhat, but not completely, paranoid had served Reaper well over the last two centuries. He had already gotten Spock to investigate all traffic in the Olduvai area as far back as the Mars colony’s founding. When it was bureaucratic bullshit that needed to be waded through, no one was better suited to it than the Vulcan. Not only did he have the temperament needed, that is to say none at all, he also had his position and reputation to use to his advantage. Reaper was sure that he had done so with a great deal of finesse. One did not grow up as an ambassador’s son without learning a few tricks.

There had been only one ship of any size that had gone near Olduvai; a small personal transport with a twenty humanoid capacity. There had been no contact with that ship or its crew since its arrival five hours before the Enterprise entered the Sol system. Five hours was more than enough time for all hell to have broken loose, even if the transport’s crew had taken all of the standard precautions for an archeology dig on a non-viable world. The terraforming of Mars was proceeding, but had not yet reached the point where there was a breathable atmosphere.

The dig itself looked exactly as Reaper remembered it, and for half a second he half expected Stahl to be waiting in the dark or to see Mac’s headless body lying where he had been killed. Stormskies’ hiss had him looking over at her, and the scattered remains of a Human skeleton. “Human dead long?” Louie asked, sliding towards the remains a few centimeters before retreating.

Reaper knew that was the Horta equivalent of pointing. “Yes, he’s the scientist that Stahl killed. The other five he mutated.”

“Bones,” Reaper heard Kirk say over the communications system, “I don’t want to ask a stupid question, but why is his skeleton scattered?” The bridge view screen was segmented into ten sections, one for each member of the away team. Several of the sections showed the skeleton from various angles.

Reaper knew that Jim was hoping against logic that the answer wasn’t Sarge. “Hopefully it was the rats. They got loose from the genetics lab when Goat and I found one of the scientists ransacking their cages in order to eat all of the lab animals. That reminds me, everyone watch out for mutated monkeys.”

“Monkeys?” Sulu asked, turning from his station to glance back at Kirk who shrugged.

“Yes monkeys. What part of any humanoid did you not understand?” Reaper snorted.

“You don’t have to worry, there was only one. Destroyer killed it, remember?” Sam butted into the conversation. “Now move over so the rest of us can get down there.”

“Give the boys a minute, I think they’re trying to figure out what that alloy is made out of,” Reaper said. Horta, or at least Huey, Dewy, and Louie, tended to have a deep curiosity concerning the makeup of different metals. Scotty tended to compare it to the curiosity of a gourmet cook about the composition of a new recipe. He motioned for Stormskies to cover him while he scanned the bones with his tricorder.

“As long as they don’t bring the entire place down on your head!” Sam snapped.

“They’re not gluttons Sam,” Reaper soothed. Considering that their parents had been killed in just such a manner, it was no wonder she was upset. While she had been certain that the dig had been stabilized two hundred years ago, the toll that the intervening time had placed on the supports was enough to make her nervous. Three Horta, even ones as small as the boys, actually eating some of those same supports was enough to make her hit the roof. “They’re clear, but Sam – come locked and cocked. It was no rat that ate these remains.”

In the transporter room, Jakar and Gav gave each other a confused look, which cleared when Sam primed her weapon. They swiftly followed suit as did F’rik’ and F’rak’. “Engergize!” Sam snapped. Chekov did not hesitate, nor did he take Doctor Grimm’s attitude personally. He and Scotty, who was next to him at the other transporter station, both understood the significance of Doctor McCoy’s determination.

Sam’s group materialized in time to see Reaper straighten up and swing his tricorder to his back as he brought his weapon up to a ready position. Sam had just sent Gav and Jakar to check out what the Horta were up to when the exit door of the dig opened. “What the hell are you doing here?” a Human female demanded to know as both sets of twins descended on her.  
“This facility is quarantined. How many people are in your party?” Reaper demanded as he dragged the woman over to one of the many outcroppings where he sat her down.

“By Shahalla! You’re Doctor Grimm. I didn’t believe Johnson when he said that he knew you.” she cried, leaning forward in excitement as she saw first Sam’s face. When Reaper sat her down and began examining her for bite injuries she cringed back in fear. “You’re the one who killed all those people!”

“What people are you talking about?” Reaper asked, exchanging looks with Sam.

“The ones we found in the Nevada desert. The main contact base for this archeology dig,” the woman stammered out.

“Uhura, tell Pike that the Nevada site has been compromised. Tell him to make certain that all remains are completely destroyed as well as any documentation this group has created,” Reaper ordered.

“Aye Doctor,” Uhura acknowledged and began to try to get a hold of Admiral Pike to inform him of the new information.

“Well if ever there was a prime example of how you archeologists get how things happened screwed up, this is it,” Reaper snarked over his shoulder at his sister. “Young lady,” he said, turning back to the woman. “That base was buried for a reason. The people who were working there were all exposed to a substance that mutated everyone who came into contact with it. My team was called in to rescue the scientists from what was at that time an unknown threat. The threat turned out to be those who were mutated, and yes my sister and I were also affected. You don’t want to know how.” The ominous tone that he used with the last sentence made the woman blanch.

The woman looked over at Sam, but the weapons Sam was carrying and her serious demeanor made the worst of the obviously horrific scenarios running through the woman’s mind seem the most likely. “We have just a small group here, mostly archeologists and xeno-archeologists, a few historians who specialize in the Eugenics Era and three engineers who are familiar with the tech from that time period. Doctors Emil and Tessra Noachian have taken the engineers to scout out the facility.”

“How long ago did they leave? Has anyone else left your ship?” Reaper demanded.

“An hour ago, they were supposed to check in and I wanted to make sure that nothing was inhibiting the signal. That’s why I came out here. Everyone else is still prepping for the main exploration of the site,” the woman said. She was obviously worried about their reactions.

“SHIT!” Reaper and Sam chorused. That the group hadn’t checked in was ominous, but knowing that Sarge had managed to survive made it even worse. “They’re probably dead or mutated by now,” Sam said bluntly.

“Jim, get the scientists still in the ship into quarantine,” Reaper ordered. He had finished with his physical exam, not finding any evidence of bite marks. He then pulled out an old fashioned hypodermic and took a blood sample. He noticed the woman’s reaction to the needle and snorted. “Hypos are good but they don’t allow for a visual examination of the sample taken.” He held up the sample to the light that Sam was holding. “I don’t see any trace of the contaminant, but we’ll send you into a separate quarantine as well just in case.”

“Of course I’m not contaminated, I’ve only been in this site for five minutes!” the woman protested. “And what do you mean they’re probably dead or mutated by now? Was it airborne? Because they wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk destroying anything of this site by messing around with whatever liquids or other substances they might find. They’re professionals.”

“Not professional enough if they couldn’t see the signs that the Nevada site was deliberately sealed with explosives,” Sam pointed out. “Not to mention that Johnson killed a woman trying to kidnap me. Now that was really professional.” John wasn’t the only Grimm twin who could do sarcasm.

“What did we need to do? Paint a great big sign that said, ‘Plague site Do Not Enter’?” Reaper asked. “All we know for certain is that it is spread by bites, probably through saliva to blood contact. We don’t know how it got started, just that the original case originated in these labs. Considering that the company that owned these labs was responsible for the Augments, there’s no such thing as a too careful exploration.”

“Due to the fact that the base was sealed with explosives during the Eugenics War there were any number of reasons that the site could have been shut down that way. We honestly thought it was a result of a bombing from someone fighting the Augments,” the woman said. “And what do you mean Johnson tried to kidnap you and killed a woman? We sent him to try and get an interview with you.”

“It happened three months before the war broke out,” Sam told her. “Johnson never tried to ask me anything. He just pulled a trank gun on me and shot another woman when I managed to get out of the way. She died from whatever medication was in that gun.”

“Doctor McCoy!” Stormskies called. “I hear something coming towards this chamber. It’s screaming.”

“Hell, here we go again,’ Reaper muttered. “Get her out of here Enterprise!” Not waiting to watch Scotty beam the woman up, Reaper headed for the dig entrance. The screaming was all too familiar. Reaper locked down his reactions to the sounds, becoming once more the soldier he had been. He wasn’t a doctor now. He had a job to do and it had nothing to do with healing. The two teams ignored the sounds of the transporter beam and concentrated on finding a good cover spot from where they could both be hidden as well as see whatever was coming at them.

Whatever turned out to be a mutation similar to the one Sam called the Baron chasing a Human male. Guessing from the oil stains he could see on the man’s clothing Reaper thought he was one of the engineers. “Head and heart!” he called out, reminding the kids just where to put their bullets. He aimed high, making sure that he didn’t hit the engineer, and fired his weapon. It wasn’t the first time he’d shot it in the last decade, but it had been a long time since he’d used it to kill.

Between his weapon and the other’s the thing’s head exploded. The experience shook Reaper somewhere deep inside where he’d locked down his feelings. He couldn’t let himself think about Sarge dying like this. It had been too easy. He was up and at the body before any of the other’s reached it. He hauled the engineer up by his arm and shoved him at Sam, before shooting the body in the heart.

It had fallen on its back. The tags, weapons and uniform were long gone, but there was still one way that Sarge could be identified. Reaper was the only one alive who still knew about it. He reached down and turned the thing over with a grunt. It was something he had noticed when Stahl had been taken down. The man’s tats had been still visible on the skin. Sarge had a single tat on his back, across his shoulders. SEMPER FI, the motto every Marine had burned into his or her brain and heart. There was no tattoo on this one. “This isn’t Sarge.”


	15. Chapter 15

Olduvai, Mars – 213 years after the massacre

“That’s not Sarge.” Doctor McCoy’s voice echoed through the bridge of the Enterprise. A general stiffening of postures occurred all over as the command team tried to figure out what had happened.

A host of different reasons for the discrepancy raced through Jim Kirk’s mind, including that the archeology team member had lied to them about how long they’d been there, but the only one he voiced was, “Could the rate of mutation have accelerated doctor?” Any of the civilians who had entered the site could have become the monster that his crew had just killed.

“No,” McCoy denied. “The mutation rate was stable. There’s no way that this one could be one of our party crashers. We’ve missed something.” His gun-cam showed him turning away from the body and moving to the terrified engineer, who had been half stripped by Sam.

Spock moved over to Jim’s command chair, silently offering his support. He knew that this would be difficult for both of his Human friends. “Then count them down Reaper,” Kirk ordered. Jim didn’t want to have to make his friend face what had happened here before. It had been hard enough for him to get through talking about it when he was drunk. Stone cold sober this could only hurt Bones even more.

“Not a whole lot of options there Brat,” McCoy said. “There were only six scientists and five Marines left here when I sealed the Ark, and I was sure that only one of them still had a chance of being alive.”

“His neck’s clean John, but there’s blood on his clothes. I haven’t ruled out injuries.” What Sam didn’t say was that she hadn’t been able to confirm that the engineer hadn’t been bitten. “We found Carmack first; he was in the process of mutating,” she prompted him. Sam had long since dropped the honorific of doctor when referring to any of the scientists who had worked on the C24 project. None of them had deserved it in her opinion, no matter that they had accomplished the level of learning needed. They hadn’t had the ethics or empathy needed for the work.

“Right, then Olsen died in Genetics when he tried to attack me and Goat,” Reaper began the death toll as he looked closely at the engineer’s skin. “I think this one is a claw mark,” he said about the mark he found on the man’s back. It was far too straight and long for it to have been made by the monster’s tongue. “Shit, F’rik’, F’rak’, check the corpse, see if it still has its tongue.” Sam glared, but he shrugged it off. So he hadn’t remembered that the things launched their tongues at the ones they chose to mutate. He was having a bit of a hard time right now, sue him. They could probably regrow any body part they lost anyway.

“No, next was Patricia Tallman in the locker room, remember? She was shot in the chest while she was mutating,” Sam said, letting the slip go. “I remember hearing Portman tell Sarge that they’d found the rest of her arm while Duke and I were taking Carmack to the infirmary. Did you know that he had a thing about nanowalls?”

“Yeah, Duke kept thinking he was going to get stuck in one, instead it was Carmack that ended up that way. Kid and Portman took Tallman out,” Reaper remembered. “Then Goat and I took out Olsen the same way and Destroyer and Sarge found that monkey.” He smiled a bit. “Freaked Destroyer out but good, I don’t think I’d ever heard him yell like that. He’d never had a monkey try to eat him before.”

“Then came Steve Willits when he infected Goat,” Sam said. She’d finally stripped the engineer completely. “You shot him down in the sewers, head and heart.”

“Yeah, I almost lost Portman down there. Stupid idiot fell into a hole and almost drowned right in front of me. He was a heavy shit and I almost didn’t get him back up,” Reaper remembered. He wondered if it would have been kinder to let the ass drown.

“I wondered how come he smelled so much worse than the rest of you,” Sam said, examining the engineer’s leg on her side. “I think this might be another claw tear, either that or from a piece of metal. It’s really jagged. Check it out.” The twins switched places, and Reaper examined the short wound. He shook his head at Sam. Her gun cam showed his face clearly to those watching. He wasn’t sure about the injury. It could be a bite mark from a mutation’s tongue.

“Jakar, Gav,” Reaper called. He cleaned up the wound and sealed it while waiting for the Andorian and Tellarite. “After that came Clay and Thurman. We found them here and Stahl took Mac’s head off right after we found them. There’s no way Mac could have been infected. He was dead before he hit the ground.”

“Goat smashed his head in while I was autopsying Willits. That’s when we figured out the monsters used to be Human. His internal organs were still normal looking,” Sam said, helping the engineer back into his clothes. “Sarge shot Carmack in the head while he was stuck in the nanowall.”

“No way to recover from that,” Reaper nodded. “Besides, we left him stuck in the wall. He should still be there.”

“Huey and Stormskies have switched places with us on the perimeter Doctor McCoy,” Jakar said as he and Gav approached.  
Reaper hauled the engineer to his feet. “Put your weapons to the back of his head and watch his hands for mutation. If he’s infected, the mutations will begin within the next forty five minutes. If he shows any signs…kill him.” The coldness of Reaper’s voice silenced any objections the two crewmen might have had. He turned back to his death count. “Portman and Destroyer were next. They were both beaten to death. Destroyer had taken one of the monsters on in hand to hand and was crushed, but there was no bite mark anywhere, so no chance of mutation. Besides, you proved that he wasn’t one that would have been picked to be mutated anyway.”

“Wasn’t Portman’s neck broken?” Sam asked, suddenly remembering how loose the man’s head had felt when she’d examined his corpse.

“Yes, but the monster that had Portman was dangling him from the ceiling and dropped him when Sarge shot it. He hadn’t been bitten, so once he was dead, Portman was just meat. That just leaves Sarge because everyone else died on Earth,” Reaper reminded her.

“Wait a minute,” Sam perked up. “Was it Thurman or Stahl that Sarge shot at?”

“Thurman, Stahl was the one who killed Destroyer and made it through the Ark.” Reaper was sure of it. Stahl had been bigger than any of the scientists, even with the mutations to his body. Plus, there had been no tattoos that he could see on the monster that had killed Portman.

“But was that before or after Sarge had that plasma gun?” Sam insisted.

“That was the first time Sarge shot that thing. He took out most of the ceiling and the upper portion of the wall as well.” Reaper didn’t get what she was aiming at.

“Didn’t Sarge shoot at you with that gun?” The expression on her face said it all. Reaper had managed to avoid getting hit with the last round in Sarge’s big fucking gun, even at point blank range and Thurman would have been just as fast. If Thurman had known it was coming, and seeing as how he and Kid had been shooting at it with their normal guns he had to have known, Thurman would have been able to get out of the way.

“Thurman was one of the people working on that gun, wasn’t he?” Reaper asked.

“Carmack’s people were the only ones who were fully versed on all three of the projects; the weapons work, the genetic tests, and the dig. Thurman would have recognized the gun and known to get out of the way. How do you know for sure that isn’t Sarge?” For his sake, Sam hoped it was Thurman. The kindest thing for her brother would be for Sarge to have died from the ST grenade John had tossed through the Ark after him.

“There’s no tat on its back,” Reaper explained. “All of us had tats so that if we were killed and couldn’t be identified by fingerprints or dental records, our team would know which bodies were ours.”

“What we think is the tongue is still there, Doctor McCoy,” F’rik’ said.

“What is a tat?” F’rak’ asked.

“It’s a picture or words created by injecting pigmentation under the skin,” Reaper explained, shoving up his uniform sleeve to show them the tattoo of the Grim Reaper that covered his left forearm. “The mutations don’t erase them. They’re stretched or distorted, but not erased. They’re still visible if you know what to look for.” Sam giggled and he sighed. “They were Marines, not poets,” he reminded her.

“It’s funnier now than it was then,” Sam smiled at him. “The best, most decorated doctor in Star Fleet was once known as the Grim Reaper.” Sam wasn’t the only one smiling as those on the bridge, (save for Kirk and Spock who already knew) finally made the connection. “And you have to admit, Bones isn’t much better.”

“He told me it was all he had left after the divorce,” Jim told her. “I couldn’t let a line like that slip by me.”

“Is that why your chief of security is named Cupcake?” she asked. The group was moving towards the complex now, leaving the body where it had dropped, and dragging the terrified engineer with them. Neither she nor John bothered to lower their voices, although they didn’t simply walk in, instead sticking to a standard search sweep. They knew that talking softly wouldn’t help. Their hearing was just as sensitive as the rest of their C24 enhanced senses. If there was another mutated monster waiting in the shadows, it would hear them long before anyone would be able to see it.

“What can I say, you insult a guy once in a bar brawl and sticks with him for the rest of his life,” Jim joked. He casually reached his hand out and brushed Spock’s wrist, allowing the touch-telepath to read the emotions behind the bantering. Joking as a tension reliever wasn’t something that the Vulcan would understand naturally in this situation, and this wasn’t a good time for him to interrupt with his cluelessness.

“I do not understand.” It looked to Jim like Dewy would be the one to interrupt for Spock. “What is the Grim Reaper and why is Doctor McCoy being called thus amusing?”

Reaper explained. “Every RRTS Marine had what was known as a handle I.D. Most often a Marine’s nickname was used as their handle I.D.; mine was Reaper. It was a play on words involving my last name and my occupation which was as a medic.

“Like many other cultures, early Humans told tales to explain natural processes. The Grim Reaper, which was depicted as a Human skeleton dressed in a hooded black robe and carrying a tool known as a scythe, is the personification of death.” Reaper reached the first body of the ‘party crashers’ as he termed them. It was an Andorian, his body ripped into shreds. Reaper shot him in the head and heart without changing his expression. “Death has no mercy, which is a characteristic that is valued in doctors and medics, who are usually seen as those who battle death itself for their patients’ lives.”

“But not in Marines,” the deep gravelly voice echoed from the darkness of the tunnel ahead of them.

“No, but then you never did understand triage Sarge,” Reaper said. “The idea is to help those who can be helped, not to kill them like you did The Kid and those twenty innocent survivors he found.”

“Semper Fi, Reaper,” Sarge snarled.


	16. Chapter 16

Olduvai, Mars – 1 hour after reopening

“Faithful to the Corps, Sarge,” Reaper snarled back. “Faithful to the code! Honor – Every Marine is held to the ultimate standard in ethical and moral conduct. Honor requires many things. A Marine must never lie, cheat, or steal and must take responsibility for his or her own actions as well as the actions of those under his or her command. Above all, a Marine must never sully the honor of the Corps!”

On the bridge the command team, save for Spock, were all squirming in their seats. Each and every one of them had been subjected to a lecture from Doctor McCoy at one time or another over the course of the last year. Most of the crew had taken to checking their friends and fellow crewmen over for scorch marks when someone came back from receiving medical care from doing something stupid.

This was worse.

Spock, who had only received minor versions of said lectures, was listening with fascination at the vehemence in the doctor’s, or rather the ancient Marine’s, voice. On and on Reaper read Sarge the riot act, going over each portion of a code that was over five centuries old and had eventually given birth to the code that each Star Fleet officer swore themselves to when they graduated from the Star Fleet Academy; honor, commitment, excellence, responsibility of command, loyalty and courage. “AND YOU KILLED TWENTY INNOCENT CIVILIANS AND A MEMBER OF YOUR OWN COMMAND BECAUSE YOU WERE SCARED!” Reaper roared.

“I followed orders!”

“We didn’t have orders to kill innocent people! You didn’t have orders to kill one of your men when he stood up for the honor of the Corps!” Reaper really hadn’t realized just how angry he still was over that. In a way The Kid’s death was a far worse betrayal than that of the civilians. Sarge had been their commanding officer. He’d sworn an oath to guard them, both their honor and their lives, and he’d betrayed that in the worst way possible. “IT WAS HIS FIRST MISSION!”

“He disobeyed a direct order!”

“An illegal one! He will be a Marine forever! You are a FORMER MARINE!” This brought an enraged but wordless scream from the darkness and then nothing but silence. A clang finally echoed through the tunnels, telling them that Sarge had left the immediate area.

“Well, at least he won’t be ignoring us,” Sam quipped. She’d been watching her brother out of the corner of her eye. He was so angry he was shaking.

“I’m just glad that he didn’t have a weapon with him. We didn’t take everything from the weapons lab back to Earth,” Reaper said. He took a deep breath. He had to get his anger back under control.

“Doctor McCoy is a Marine?” Reaper heard Chekov whisper in awe over his comm gear. “No wonder he can get the captain to do what he wants.”

Snickering, because while he had dealt with boys like Jim Kirk, (minus the genius of course which only made it that much harder to keep up with him) while he was in the Marines, no one could truly get Jim Kirk to do anything that he didn’t want to do. There was a reason Reaper had given him the handle I.D. of Brat. Jim obeyed him more out of respect and friendship than anything else.

“Guns of any kind are useless without bullets, and he couldn’t have made more. The weapons team was grumbling about being short of raw materials for their testing phases,” Sam reassured him. “Of course, that also included pig carcasses,” she said.

“I doubt he’s going to be throwing pig carcasses at us,” he replied, rolling his eyes at her. He was grateful for the distraction though. It helped him to regain his composure. “Might as well get going,” he said, stepping out from the doorway that he had taken cover in. “He’s not going to keel over just because I yelled at him.”

Olduvai was built in a spherical shape, with the Ark chamber, Atrium and important labs on the center level. The archeological dig was actually just outside of the complex, connected to it by a single tunnel. Every hallway and corridor in the complex was cut through solid rock with the UAC fittings of air ducts, sewer pipes, potable water pipes, etc worked into the tunnel.

So it didn’t surprise Reaper that the Hortas had dived right into making their own tunnels rather than trying to crawl over the grating that was used as the floor for these back corridors. Hewy had orders to begin his search at the bottom of the sphere. Dewy would start at the top, and Louie would begin on the far side. Of everyone who was now on Olduvai, the boys were the only ones that Reaper and Sam weren’t worried about. With any luck they would be able to trap Sarge between them.

The rest of the landing party would search this level together before splitting up. Each group would take a direction, up or down. F’rik’ and F’rak’ were crawling along the pipes running along the top of the tunnel, keeping up easily with the two footed members of the landing party. “Why did the one you call Sarge leave?” Stormskies asked.

Reaper smirked. “He’s planning on ambushing us; killing or turning all of you and leaving me until last.”

“Great,” someone muttered over the comm. Even Reaper’s enhanced hearing couldn’t help him identify the voice. As they found each new door, once the room behind it had been searched, Sam sealed the door shut, welding it shut with a plasma torch. Everyone had been instructed to do the same thing. There was nothing here that needed to be remembered, removed or rediscovered. Reaper intended to burn the place to ashes when they were done. The only thing they had found so far had been supply and artifact storage rooms; most of them ransacked for Lord only knew what.

They were coming up on the first of the labs now. Reaper remembered this one. It had been his and Sam’s parent’s lab as it was the closest one to the dig site. “Home Sweet Home,” Sam murmured as the door opened. Reaper made a face, but he couldn’t argue with that. They’d spent the better part of their childhood in this lab, helping out their parents with their work. Of course, he hoped that Sam had kept that little piece of information to herself. The last thing he needed was for Jim or Spock to hear about it. He didn’t hide how smart he is anymore, not like he did during his first century, but he did have an image to uphold and having been a child geek did not fit into it anywhere.

Reaper and Sam swept the lab themselves, and when Sam sealed the door no one commented on the tears that slid down her cheek. From that point the tunnel split in two. This was the area that saw the most action the last time Reaper was here, and the bullet holes in the walls showed it. “F’rik’, F’rak’, take the genetics lab, the rest of us will check out the infirmary,” Reaper ordered. He realized that it was dangerous to split up, but they had no choice if they were going to cover the entire complex, and it was too dangerous to beam down more security personnel.

The infirmary had four entrances marked on the map Sam and Bones had drawn for them, but what shown on the kill-cams was a solid wall with a misshapen skeleton embedded in it. “What’s that?” Sulu asked, a bit horrified at the sight.

“That’s Carmack, and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” Reaper’s tone told them just as much as the name of the man the remains had belonged to. This was the man who had been primarily responsible for the situation they all now found themselves in.

Sam reached for the control panel next to the wall, and suddenly the bridge crew was shown a sight that hadn’t existed for over one hundred and fifty years. The wall was a nanowall, a technology long since abandoned by Earth and the Federation. When the correct security code was entered, the wall turned transparent and became permeable as they saw when Carmack’s remains fell to the ground. Where Sam had taken point in their parent’s lab, here Reaper did. The four mummified bodies on gurneys showed why.

For the moment, Reaper ignored them, searching through the infirmary at top speed, making sure that Sarge wasn’t here. He didn’t expect that Sarge would be. Sam had sealed the nanowalls shut and locked everyone without her clearance code out, and the mummies showed no signs of having been used as a meal like the outer portions of Carmack’s had. When he nodded; Jakar, Gav, and Stormskies brought in the engineer. “Put him in there,” Reaper said, pointing at a smaller observation room. Jim wasn’t the only person who saw the dried stain on the room’s window and realized just what it had to have been. Sam had been rather graphic in her description of Goat’s death not very long ago.

Sam helped the crewmen to secure the engineer, but her attention, like everyone else’s was on her brother. He was standing at the foot of the collection of gurneys, looking at the remains of his teammates. They were a gruesome sight. Even Mac’s body, which had sustained the least amount of injuries as it had only had the head removed, had shriveled and contorted with the drying process that had preserved them. The other three showed seriously misshapen skulls, the dents from the high velocity impacts that had killed them clear for all to see.

As everyone remained silent, honoring the fallen Marines, Reaper’s quiet voice was audible to them all. “I’m sorry Goat. I hate that I can’t take you home, but I know you understand. I just don’t know why you got it when Sarge never did.” He pulled out a Romulan disruptor, (a souvenir Jim had picked up on the Narada) and carefully disintegrated the most distorted of the bodies. He then carefully placed a transporter booster on each of the remaining three.

“Portman, I remember what you said. You wanted to be cremated and your ashes spread over a nude beach. That’s going to be hell to figure out, but I’ll do the best I can you sick fuck. Destroyer, I’ll make sure you get back to Duke. Pike will hold the Nevada site under guard until I tell him what to do with it, so it won’t be hard to get you and your brother back together. Mac,” Reaper gently lifted the man’s head and placed it on the body’s chest right next to the booster. “I know just the place. There’s a Buddhist Temple not far from Safeco Field. You should feel right at home there.” He stepped back out of transporter range. “Scotty, Chekov, beam these three directly to my morgue.”

“Not a problem Doctor,” Scotty assured him. “The signal is coming through loud and clear.”

“Beaming now,” Chekov warned.

“I’ll make sure that Admiral Pike finds a way to have their last wishes honored, Bones. It’s the least he can do considering what they died protecting us from,” Jim said somberly. He also wanted to say that Pike owed McCoy for sending him into this situation when he was nowhere near ready for it, but Kirk knew that his friend wouldn’t hear of it. Bones might be a sarcastic, gruff and mouthy to authority wise ass, but whether he was calling himself John Grimm, Leonard McCoy or anything else, he knew his duty far better than most of the admirals in charge of Star Fleet. He would never have turned his back on this situation no matter what the cost to himself. “Mathews, make sure the Marines have an honor guard.”

“Yes, sir,” came the sober response from the chief of security.


	17. Chapter 17

Lower levels – Olduvai, Mars

 

Sarge prowled around his den. He was agitated both because his territory had been invaded and because Reaper was now back within his reach. Reaper had brought others with him too. The thought made his mouth water. He hadn’t had fresh meat in so long. The few bites he’d gotten from the first group didn’t count. They weren’t enough to fill a plate, much less his stomach.

Reaper would pay for abandoning him here. He’d eat all of those Reaper had brought with him; either that or he’d destroy their bodies in such a way as to break the soft hearted man. Then he’d take whatever transport that had brought his enemy here and he’d go find richer pickings. He’d start with the meat left by the other. It wasn’t much, but he would need to be at his strongest to deal with Reaper.

Sarge’s lair had once been nothing special, just an out of the way area where techs could clean up or repair things that had broken. Down here there hadn’t been a lot that wasn’t greasy, grimy or otherwise disgustingly covered in things that most people hadn’t wanted to see long before Sarge took up residence here. It hadn’t improved. There were now ancient bones littering the floor. Scraps that might have been cloth, or flesh, was scattered in the corners. Containers that had once held a number of different items had been ripped apart and their contents scattered all over. A small niche held a toilet which, although growing with an uncounted number of unidentifiable species, was still functional and a mass of torn, stained and rotting cushions.

The overhead lights were mostly burned out. Sarge had not bothered to replace them as he could see as well as he needed to without them. However Sarge wasn’t the only one not bothered by the lack of light. Horta had never experienced light, artificial or otherwise, until their first meeting with the Federation miners on their home world.

All three Horta, triplets as they understood the soft people’s term, were well aware of the importance of this mission. The very idea of people becoming monsters that ATE other people was enough to make even a Horta wish to attempt to discharge a meal, (a fascinating soft person feat, Huey had never seen anything like it before). That did not mean that Huey wasn’t having the time of his young life though. A brand new planet to taste, explore and an important mission to complete meant that he was practically giddy with excitement; well as giddy as a Horta could get anyway.

Following his orders from Doctor McCoy, Huey was searching the complex of soft person tunnels from the lowest level up. Horta senses were not the same as soft people senses as they did not have similar physical structures. They did perform similar sorts of functions though, and Horta were capable of things that soft people were not. The most notable of these was that Horta were able to ‘see’ through solid rock. It was because of this that Huey was the first one to see Sarge. “Doctor McCoy, I have believe I have found Sarge in the lower levels,” he reported. “He is moving upwards towards your position.”

In the infirmary, Reaper and Sam were distracted by Huey’s announcement and didn’t notice Gav’s mistake until it was too late. The Tellarite, as stubborn and aggressive as any other of his race, had not heeded their warnings. While everyone else was paying their respects to the dead Marines, he had been investigating the infirmary. Gav snuffled over the remains of the corpse Sam had autopsied, before heading over to investigate something long and slimy that had been pinned by one end to one of the counters.

Sam turned around to see Gav bend down to look at the tongue that Carmack had shot at her and Duke when he got stuck in the nanowall. “GAV NO!” she yelled, but it was too late. Just as Gav began to straighten up the tongue moved, attaching itself to his throat. The high porcine squeal of pain let those watching know that the tongue was still as deadly as it was two hundred years ago. “Shit,” she cursed before shooting the security officer.

Reaper walked over to the body and ripped the tongue out of the wound in Gav’s throat. “Well, that answers that.” He watched the tongue wiggle helplessly in his grip as he said, “Huey, keep an eye on Sarge. If we can figure out what he’s up to we might be able to get the drop on him, not that I expect to. He’s had over two centuries to learn the layout of this place. Dewy, Louie, report if you spot any other contacts. We still have three civilians unaccounted for.” He could hear cursing, low and vehement, over his comm.

If this situation wasn’t what it was Reaper’s heart would go out to Cupcake. It’s never easy to lose one of your men, especially to their own stupidity; but this was what it was and he didn’t have the luxury to deal with Cupcake’s pain right now. Sam bent over and picked up Gav’s body, setting it down on one of the now empty gurneys. “We’ll have to leave the body here. Save the disruptor for the ones we haven’t found yet,” she told her brother.

Reaper nodded absently, still staring at the thing in his hand. “You know, I think this thing might have some brain matter in it. It really shouldn’t still be alive without some sort of neurological function.”

Sam cursed as she realized that her brother was right. Body parts did not survive on their own, and they and the monsters only lived as long as their hearts and brains were intact. “That means that there is one more of those things down in the sewers. That doesn’t have a tongue.” She gestured over at the mummified monster corpse.

Reaper simply shrugged. “A couple of photon torpedoes should take care of that little problem.” He pulled the Tellarite version of a knife from Gav’s belt and pinned the tongue back onto the counter.

“Too bad we couldn’t have just done that in the first place,” Kirk said over the comm. Reaper could tell that his friend and captain was not pleased to be forced onto the sidelines for this little trip. “Could someone please look over at the engineer? He’s off screen and he should be mutating about now if he’s going to.”

Almost as one they all turned around to see an empty isolation room. “Well, I guess it was too much to count on professionalism,” Reaper drawled, glaring at a cringing Stormskies and Jakar.

“Leave it,” Sam ordered him. “If they survive, their commanding officer can deal with them. Right now we have five possible monsters to track down and deal with, not to mention your little feud with Sarge.” She went over to the corner where the remainder of the RRTS squad had left a pile of weapons. They hadn’t taken all of the weapons because there hadn’t been enough men to use them. They had left their extra ammunition for much the same reason. This was the stash that Reaper had been worried about.

“Do you think that the ammo is any good?” she asked as she tossed Reaper The Kid’s two automatic pistols.

A female voice sounded loud in the quiet of the infirmary as Reaper caught the weapons. “Special Opps clearance verified, Handle ID - Reaper.” It was a good thing that his squad had programed all of their bio-signatures into all of the squad’s weapons. It had saved their lives on more than one occasion. He unlocked the bio-locks as he glanced over the weapons. The air tight and climate controlled conditions of this set of room made it a possibility. “Only one way to find out,” he told Sam. He whirled around and let loose a few rounds with each weapon into the closest wall.

The Kid might have been new to the squad, but he had been a good Marine and his weapons were still in perfect working order. “It’s still good,” was his verdict as he checked the holes left by the bullets. He passed the twin weapons to Sam as she was the smallest of those here. She could have handled a heavier weapon, in fact the rifle that she had was almost as powerful as Destroyer’s mini-cannon had been, but the others wouldn’t be able to handle the smaller weapons as they had been customized for the smaller built Marine. He passed out each of the other weapons, unlocking the bio-locks and ignoring the computer’s voice identifying him as Reaper, and the small amount of ammunition that went with them. It wasn’t much, but in this place any amount was better than none. “Let’s go monster hunting.”

 

Earth – Nevada, North America – UAC archeological site – 213 years after it was sealed

 

“The UAC,” Admiral Pike cursed. He had wondered who was insane or ignorant enough to reopen this kettle of gagh. (It was the most inedible and disgusting thing that he’d ever been forced to eat in his long Star Fleet career. He really didn’t understand how Klingons could eat it, much less for it to be a common favorite, even if they were aliens.) The corporation had survived the Eugenics Wars and WW3, but only as a pale shadow of its former self. Sam had sworn to him that she and her brother had wiped out any data on the Olduvai massacre, other than something had gotten loose in the labs and the massacre had happened because there had been too many deaths to cover up, prior to World War 3. So the odds of anyone other than those Sam or John had told knowing about C24 were practically nil. That didn’t mean it couldn’t have been rediscovered.

The Olduvai site has only just been reopened according to Lieutenant Uhura, but in order to find it the current UAC had to have some sort of directions, and as Pike looked down on the excavation he knew just where they had gotten those directions. If the smile on his face could have done Reaper proud in his days as a mercenary Pike wouldn’t have been surprised. He was not a happy man. These people were not just putting his friends, people who had both saved his life, in danger; they were putting the entire Federation at risk and as a dedicated Star Fleet officer that pushed every button he had.

The site looked like nothing more than a tent city surrounding a hole in the ground. Pike knew though, that the hole was the top of the elevator shaft that led down to the original excavation site, and the facility that had been built around the Ark. Pike had once asked John why Leonard McCoy was scared of transporters. It hadn’t meant much at the time. He’d just wanted to take his mind off of his injuries, the loss of Vulcan, most of the secondary fleet, members of his crew and the state of his crippled ship. John had realized this of course, and had regaled him with stories of the Ark and just exactly what it had done both to him and to those John had known.

So Pike knew that the Ark facility was handicapped accessible since Pinky’s injuries had been even more severe than his, as long as the destruction of the entrance hadn’t done any major structural damage to the rest of the place. With the site covered with Star Fleet security arresting everyone in sight, he was determined to investigate the place himself. There were bound to still be bodies that would need to be disposed of, as well as records to pour through and that needed to be done by someone who could be trusted utterly.

“Take me down there ladies,” Admiral Pike ordered. It was a good thing that Commander Number One was in port to help with the fleet reconstruction, (she would be promoted to captain as soon as her new ship was ready) and that Ensign Gaila had survived the destruction of Vulcan, although with severe enough injuries that she too would never serve on a starship again. Both women were brilliant with computer systems, were utterly dedicated to the safety of the Federation, and sneakier than a hundred of the people down below them put together.

Number One had served as his first officer for years, a position that taught a person how to deal with more political hot potatoes than a thousand years in politics. Gaila was now his personal assistant after recovering from the injuries she’d received when the Enterprise had collided with wreckage at the battle of Vulcan. She had grown up in the Orion Syndicate and had not only survived; she’d managed to escape and become a Star Fleet engineering cadet. There were no two beings better suited to keeping things quiet when they needed to. Nor would any UAC wanna be spy, now or centuries past, be able to pull anything over on the two of them. “We’ve got monsters to hunt.”


	18. Chapter 18

Olduvai, Mars – two hours after the arrival of the Enterprise

 

The genetics lab was actually several smaller labs crowded together around a single main laboratory. F’rik’ and F’rak’ were well aware that this was one of the areas involved in the massacre that had happened here, and so were not surprised to find that there was extensive damage. Glass covered the floors, blood stains covered the walls, destroyed cages of various sizes had been flung about the main chamber in a haphazard manner, and bones from various species were strewn over every conceivable surface. They even found the remains of one of the scientists. He’d been stripped down to his skeleton just as the scientist they’d found when they’d entered, rather than the flesh being lost to time.

F’rak’ clacked his mandibles nervously. He couldn’t see anything wrong, nor could he sense any vibrations that would signal danger. That did not stop his carapace from flexing in aborted attempts at rolling. F’rik’ chittered at him, laughing at his nervousness, but that did not stop him from being very careful about how he searched his part of the labs. He had always been the more cautious of the two of them, while F’rik’ tended to rush head long into danger. For F’rak’ this was as nerve wracking as any assignment they’d ever had; more so because of the mutated humans who were sure to be tracking them down than anything else. Sarge might be fixated on the doctor, but there were others down here who were probably mutated just like he was.

Behind him something clattered on the ground and he jumped high enough to grab onto the ceiling pipes. F’rak’ hung by his hind appendages as he swept the room with his weapons, only to discover his idiot brother rolling on the floor with laughter. The sound had been made by a rat climbing on a counter and knocking over a glass dish. “Just because it’s a rat this time doesn’t mean that it will be next time. Good reflexes F’rak’,” came Captain Kirk’s voice over their comms.

“Thank you sir,” F’rak’ said, still glaring at his brother. Doctor McCoy had been right to have Lieutenant Uhura set up their comms the way she did. Knowing that the captain was watching their every move, even to the point of issuing a silent reprimand to F’rik’ was very comforting. It also kept him from saying something that would have hurt his brother. As nervous and upset as he was, he would never want to hurt F’rik’s feelings, even if his brother was acting like a TT’okk’ii’ on a KK`crr``u.

“You didn’t shoot the rat, I’m impressed. I’d have bet you’d be wasting ghosts,” came from Doctor McCoy. That was an even bigger complement and one that had F’rik’ unrolling from his ball sheepishly. He might not have completely understood the reference, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t understood the meaning behind it. Although the doctor couldn’t see what was going on, he knew that F’rak’ hadn’t shot his weapons at nothing. F’rik’ knew he hadn’t acted very professionally, especially because rolling up cut off the visual portion of their comm equipment, but the way F’rak’ had jumped was just too hysterical not to laugh at.

The two brothers were watching each other as F’rak’ climbed down from the ceiling pipes. They didn’t notice the clawed appendage sneaking around the corner of the door behind F’rik’ at floor level. Fortunately for them, Sulu did. “FRIK! ROLL!” he yelled. Not hesitating at the command or the way the Human mispronounced his name, F’rik’ rolled into the ball shape that had protected his people for all of their history from the predators of their homeworld and sped across the room.

F’rak’ brought up his weapons just as the appendage swiped at his brother’s carapace, leaving several long cuts in the surface. He let loose with both weapons, sending pieces of metal (the doctor had called them slugs for some reason F’rak’ hadn’t understood during the practice sessions. He’d thought that was the English word for an invertebrate with no carapace) into the appendage, severing the grasping portion from the length. The creature shrieked louder than F’rak’ had ever believed any creature could. He held his position, nerves twitching in counter point to the cries as they faded away.

Once he was certain that the creature was gone, he scurried forward to grab the trophy with two of his own secondary appendages, not letting go of his weapons with his primaries. Then he took off scurrying after his brother. “F’rik’!” he cried.

“Crewman F’rak’,” Captain Kirk said, gaining the running insectizoid’s attention with his correct pronunciation. “We can’t see any visual output from F’rik’s comm, and the audio doesn’t sound good. He has pulled it into his carapace. Can you track him?” The Captain’s voice was as calm as ever, but as sensitive to vibrations as his people were, F’rak’ could tell that the human was worried about F’rik’.

“Yes Captain,” F’rak’ assured him. Although the engineers, or someone else, had made certain that the facility had power, it was clear that the tunnels from one habitat area to the next had never been intended to be well lit. F’rak’ was thankful that his own physiology was not hampered by the shadows that lurked in every direction. As it was, he could see all too clearly the blood trail left by the cuts in F’rik’s carapace. They had gone deeper than he had thought, breaking through the protective armor to reach the soft muscle underneath. “He’s bleeding from cuts made by this.” He held up the trophy to his comm so that it could be seen by the bridge crew. “I’m having no trouble following the blood trail.” He didn’t bother to mention how much that fact scared him.

 

Other side of the main level at Olduvai

 

It hadn’t taken more than a glance and a nod for the twins to split up their group into two teams; a side effect of having known each other all of their two plus centuries. Jakar had gone with Sam while Stormskies had teamed with Reaper. “Doctor McCoy?” Reaper made a low sound of acknowledgment at the almost subvocal pronouncement. “I know that Humans place a great deal of importance upon tradition and that you served with Sarge during the massacre here. Does this not place you in an inappropriate position?”

Reaper had worked with Meroraws before so he understood what Stormskies was trying to say. “I thought your people didn’t like to talk about perversions,” he retorted, referring to her own position as a Star Fleet Security Officer and hoping it would shut her up. Mearoraws hunted alone – period. Anything else was considered a perversion of the natural order of things and they applied this philosophy even to other species as long as they were intelligent up to and including the military forces of other worlds. Why did he always get stuck with the talkative ones, even if Stormskies was being much more polite than The Kid had been? At least this time he knew that Stormskies wasn’t high and her voice was almost as silent as his footsteps. Reaper ripped his mind away from his memories of The Kid and back to the present.

Stormskies laugh was entirely silent, but Reaper could feel it in the way the air moved against his back. They were searching the labs that were in the next section over from the infirmary, a section that Reaper hadn’t been in before. He really needed to keep his attention on their work, not on the impromptu cross-cultural lesson. “My people need to grow up,” she said. “Cooperation on a hunt means that you can take on a greater opponent than you can alone. Providing for your children or an honor hunt is one thing, trying to take out a threat that can kill your entire kin-clan or world on your own is something else entirely.”

Reaper put his back to the wall so that he could look at Stormskies without putting them in danger, but he never let his other senses stop searching for that particular stench and sound that meant a mutated person was near. “I hope that you make it out of here alive Stormskies. You just might be as important to your people as Surak is to the Vulcans.”

“I concur,” Spock said, which reminded Reaper that the bridge crew was watching them.

The very last thing that McCoy wanted was for any of the crew to hear him actually admit that anything of the Vulcan philosophy was a good thing. It would undermine his position in his confrontations with Spock. “Spock, no one disputes that Surak is the most important person in Vulcan history. He was the one who managed to get you to stop killing yourselves after all. It’s just too bad that your people don’t really seem to understand what he was trying to get you to do. There’s a difference between controlling emotions and suppressing them.”

“What is truly amazing Doctor, is that a Human such as yourself has even a passing acquaintance with even the most basic of tenents of Surak’s philosophy.”

Everyone could hear the beginnings of yet another sniping session between the FO and the CMO, but Stormskies headed it off. “Doctor McCoy, why would a laboratory have children’s toys in it?”

“What sort of toys?” Reaper asked, his training snapping his focus away from Bones’ favorite pastime of Hobgoblin baiting and back to his mission. This was Olduvai – there was no telling what some sick bastard of a scientist had come up with.  
“….Dolls, I think?” Stormskies questioned.

Even more concerned, Reaper took two steps to his left and peered around the corner of the door to the lab in question. Scattered all over the lab were something that he hadn’t seen in more than a century - ventriloquist dummies, and even more startling it was a group that he recognized from his childhood. The smirk that covered his face fell off the moment Stormskies reached for one of the dummies, and Reaper yelled, “Don’t touch!”

Stormskies wasn’t the only one to flinch at Reaper’s yell. “John?” Sam called, more than slightly fearful.

“Whoever had this lab had a sick sense of humor and was obsessed with Jeff Dunham,” he replied grimly. “There’s almost the entire set of dummies here and by the way Peanut is placed on top of a case of energy drinks, I’m guessing that each dummy stands for whatever it’s sitting on.”

“What do you mean Bones?” Kirk asked, completely confused.

It was Sam who answered. “That’s Casey Linstrom’s lab and you’re right, she did have a twisted sense of humor. Which dummies does she have in there?”

Reaper carefully pulled Stormskies away from the dummy she had been reaching out for. “I can see Peanut, Walter, Jose Jalapeno, Bubba J, Melvin the Superhero Guy, Sweet Daddy Dee, and Achmed. Each of them are sitting on cases. I’m guessing that each dummy is a sign of what is in that particular group of cases.”

“Ok, so what does each dummy signify?” Kirk asked. He wasn’t the only one who was confused about how a group of dummies, especially the one Reaper had called Peanut, could signify a dangerous situation.

“Jeff Dunham was a comedian who used dummies in his act. Each one is a different character and has a unique personality. Peanut is highly energetic and cheerful, even as he insults the hell out of Dunham in the routine. That’s what makes me think that the dummies are serving as warnings of what the cases hold.” Reaper slowly looked around the lab at the different storage containers. His gun cam settled on Achmed. “Achmed is the easiest one to figure out. He’s sitting on top of a bomb.”

“At least one, more likely at least one per case,” Sam agreed.

“Because he’s a skeleton?” Kirk guessed, eyeing what looked like a dressed up Halloween decoration to him.

“The character is named Achmed the Dead Terrorist. He’s a failed suicide bomber. His bomb went off prematurely. Around the time of his creation there were many instances of terrorists who would carry a bomb into a place and set it off, killing himself and most of the people around him.” Reaper didn’t think that he needed to say anything more on that subject. Black humor was still used to help keep tragedy from overwhelming people. “Walter is a typical crotchety old man.”

The gun cams moved on to the next character. “One who is thrilled that Achmed is terrified of him,” Sam reminded her brother with a laugh. “He didn’t want to go back into the case.”

“Because Walter’s farts were supposed to be worse than mustard gas,” Reaper finished the thought. “Damn! He must be sitting on top of cases of gas canisters containing lethal gases.” He swung his tricorder around to scan the cases. Such gases could not kill him or his sister, but they could kill Stormskies and make his and Sam’s lives absolute misery until their mutated healing could repair the damage. He breathed a sigh of relief. “There’s nothing in the atmosphere. They aren’t leaking.”

“Who’s next?” Kirk asked. He was beginning to see why Bones said that the owner of the lab had a sick sense of humor.

“Jose Jalapeno on a Stick,” Reaper reported. He reached over and petted Stormskies between her shoulder blades. Her ruff fur was standing on end as she realized just what she might have unleashed by picking up the harmless looking dummy. “That one is fairly easy as well. He has to be guarding incendiaries, jalapeno peppers are hot. There’s no telling what sort of chemical stew is in there.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what else,” Uhura said frankly. The thought that any one of the ancient containers could fail at any time was enough to send shudders through her.

“Well if you hadn’t guessed by now Dunham’s stock in trade was making fun of stereotypes, so Bubba J has to be sitting on a case of beer,” Reaper said with a smirk.

“Don’t bother with it,” Sam laughed. “Casey had terrible taste in beer.”

“As long as you’re sure Bones, what about the last two?”

“Sweet Daddy Dee and Marvin the Superhero Guy – Dee was supposed to be Dunham’s manager, so I’m guessing red tape or documentation maybe?”

“Her porn?” Sam added.

“That’s possible,” Reaper agreed with a chuckle. “Most likely that set of containers aren’t dangerous to anyone still alive. Marvin though, I haven’t got a clue about him. The only thing I remember is that he made fun of other superheroes. I didn’t like him much because of that.”

“He had x-ray vision and he liked to look at women’s chests with it,” Sam said sourly.

“Radioactive isotopes!” Chekov exclaimed. “That explains why I am beginning to have trouble with background radiation near to your location Doctor. Be very careful. The shielding is not good.”

“Stormskies, out,” Reaper ordered. “Watch the door. I don’t hear anything in here, but we need to be certain.” Nodding Stormskies took her post as Reaper began to search the room, moving swiftly but very carefully so as not to disturb any of the dangerous cases. Five minutes later he joined Stormskies at the door. “It’s clear. Let’s head down. I’d rather come at Sarge than have him at my back.” That hurt to admit, but Sarge was long past any sort of redemption.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Elfsong wanted to know what the Horta boys were up to. Sadly to say, at the moment Dewy and Louie are having a ball tunneling through the local rock. Which really isn’t very exciting to write about and Huey is following Sarge. We will get back to them later - I promise, just not right now.

 

Archeological Dig Site – UAC Complex – Nevada, Earth

The elevator that had once led down to the underground UAC complex was long gone, destroyed on Reaper’s orders. Fortunately for Admiral Pike the current UAC had excavated the shaft and installed an anti-gravity lift so that he and his assistants were able to enter the facility without having to endure the indignity of having the Admiral carried by one of his security troops. The bottom of the lift opened up into what had to be the lobby. Four Star Fleet security officers stood guard over both the lift and the centuries old remains that lay everywhere, ensuring that none of the UAC personnel would be able to further their investigations into this site.

A lieutenant led the three down a corridor which opened up into the Earth-side ARK chamber. The center of the chamber had been roped off, a wise move as far as Pike was concerned. Things might have been working on this side of the ARK, but an alien transporter was never a good thing to mess around with if you could avoid it. He’d already lost the use of his legs, he didn’t need to lose anything else.

The ARK chamber itself still showed signs of the fight that had taken place here between Reaper and his team’s commander, Sarge. Pike had heard only the barest parts of the story, but then Sam hadn’t known the details of just what had happened between the two men. She had been crawling away, dragging herself over the debris covered floor because Sarge had broken her back. Reaper had been covering her escape as much as he had been trying to prevent the C24 infection from spreading.

Pike hadn’t realized the extent of the damage the fight between the two men had done. The metal railings that ran along the second level balconies were bent out of shape and ripped from their places. Unbreakable plastics hung precariously in pieces from their frames. Fist, and body, sized dents could be seen in solid metal walls. Large metal containers had been picked up and thrown. Pike didn’t want to imagine just how far they’d traveled. He leaned over and gave one that was close to him a slight nudge. It had a large bullet hole in it. He was surprised that he wasn’t more surprised when he couldn’t even get it to rock.

“Remind me to never piss off the good doctor,” Pike muttered. Number One threw him a smirk which Pike ignored. There was a utility belt just inside the cordoned off area, and Pike could see that while someone had marked it, there seemed to be no sign of disturbance from the time it had been dropped. “Mr. Thompson, check that belt and make sure that any weaponry that might be in it is secured.”

Pike began checking the bodies. There were two here that were RRTS, Reaper’s team mates Duke and The Kid, and neither of them were infected. Now all Pike had to do was find them. “All these people,” Number One said softly, as she walked beside him. “It’s hard to believe that they were all killed in under three hours with either bare claws or a handful of solid projectile weapons.”

“Two hours, Number One,” Pike said. “And solid projectile weapons might not be the most destructive weapons known to Federation history, but they’re still damned destructive in the right hands.” He looked around at a pile of bodies that had been shot and chewed on. “It must have spread like a wild fire.”

“Admiral,” Commodore Erib said as she approached. “We have secured all of the sentients at this location, and Captain Buckles has done the same to the UAC building. The president and ruling board are protesting their arrests as possible coconspirators to treason against the Federation.” The Andorian paused at this point. Treason was not something that any of her people took lightly. “Are you certain that your information is correct?”

“Erib, I know you’ve already seen the sort of mutation this plague can cause. Highly contagious doesn’t even begin to come close to describing this. We’re simply fortunate enough that it spreads by saliva and blood contact rather than being airborne.” Pike looked deadly serious as he finished. “Only two people walked away from this mess and they committed suicide less than a month later to keep this a secret because they knew that the UAC would go after it and try to use it as a weapon. If this gets loose inside the Federation, the resulting epidemic would destroy every single planet, colony and ship or station that is exposed. As far as we know no one is immune to this and it doesn’t just affect Humans. Any humanoid is vulnerable. There is nothing else here that is worth investigating. I think that high treason is a mild term for what the UAC had planned.”

“But what about the transport device?” Erib asked.

Pike smirked. “Erib, the ARK is already documented. It was the original basis for our own transporter technology.” He wasn’t even lying to his subordinate either. Sam had been exposed to the idea of long range transporters from her childhood because of her trips through the ARK, and she had been the one to invent the transporter.

Erib nodded, her antenna pointed backwards and flattened to her skull, a sign of accepting admonishment among her people. “We have all of the computers secured, sir. What are your orders concerning the bodies?”

“They should all be destroyed – vaporized if possible. The only exceptions are the two Rapid Response Tactical Squad members, if you can find them. I don’t know their names, the reports just referred to their code names. The Kid was shot in the throat, and Duke was pulled down through a floor grating. If there is anything left of them, put them in stasis, full quarantine procedures. They shouldn’t be infected, but we’ll treat them carefully just the same. They deserve a decent burial if we can manage it,” Pike sighed.

 

Living Quarters – Olduvai, Mars

The first impression Jakar had, had of Dr. Samantha Grimm was of a typical Human scientist, even as she and Dr. McCoy had explained that they were anything but typical Humans. It wasn’t until now, as he followed Dr. Grimm through the dark tunnels that she had once called home that he began to understand just how drastically the C24 had changed her. She had been a sheltered scientist before the massacre. Now she moved as though she was just as much of a predator as the monsters they were hunting. Jakar prided himself on his abilities as a warrior. Dr. Grimm made him look like a child out playing at being a hunter.

Jakar shivered as he waited for Dr. Grimm to seal the next set of living quarters. ‘From what he could tell, most of them had been ignored for the last two centuries. It was a huge waste of time, but if on the off chance that there was at least one…’ Jakar snapped out of his growing impatience as his antenna detected something moving towards them.

The creature moved far too quickly to really be seen. Jakar got off a few shots, but the creature’s arm (‘was that a third arm growing out of its back?’ he wondered) hit him in the midsection and he flew into the opposite wall. Just before his head cracked against the wall, he saw Dr. Grimm come up behind the creature. The way she launched herself onto its back, not to grapple with it but to knock it to the ground before it could come at him again, showed just how much training she must have received over the last two centuries. ‘This woman did not spend all of that time in a lab,’ he thought as he succumbed to his head injury.

Sam rolled back onto her feet, shooting her main weapon as she did so. It took half a clip to take the monster down, mostly because she had trouble finding the thing’s heart. The brain would have been easy, except for the fact that it had a long, sinewy neck that moved its small head out of the way every time she tried to shoot it. “Damn it all to hell,” she snarled, as it finally fell down dead.

“Sam?” “Doctor Grimm?” asked multiple voices over her comm.

“It was bad enough the last time when we were just dealing with mutated Humans. I’ve got one here that can’t have started out Human, so it must be one of the UAC people. That’s three down and four to go,” she said flatly. “Jakar’s down. Scotty, Chekov, beam him back to sickbay. If he stays here, he’s meat for the monsters.”

On the bridge they had seen Jakar go down. Spock glanced at Kirk, who met his gaze with a sad but determined look. “Go,” Kirk said simply. Spock nodded and left the bridge.

“Sam,” McCoy began, but Samantha interrupted him.

“It’s just a head injury. There’s no chance Jakar’s infected,” she reassured her brother. “Your people will have no problems taking care of that.”

“She’s right Bones,” Kirk agreed, as Jakar disappeared in a transporter beam. “We’re taking every precaution up here and no one has shown any sign of mutation.” Spock hurried into the armory, slipping off his science blue shirt and leaving only his regulation blacks. Normally he would have taken the time to fold and place the shirt carefully in an out of the way spot, but there was no time for that. Gathering the extra ammunition that security had created for this mission took little time, as did retrieving two utility belts to hold it. He swung the belts over his head and across his chest, one over each shoulder as to evenly distribute the weight. Satisfied that he was not overburdened he left the armory at a run, headed for the transporter room where Mr. Scott and Mr. Chekov would be beaming Jakar back to the ship.

“Jim, I don’t think that either one of you is about to risk any lives. I’m worried about Sam being on her own. It’s too risky for anyone to be alone down here,” Reaper snapped. “And M’Benga is perfectly capable of dealing with an Andorian with a head injury. His specialty might be Vulcans, but he has the same general qualifications in xeno-medicine that I do.”

In the transporter room Jakar appeared on the pad. As the medical team moved him to a stretcher, Spock entered the room and picked up Jakar’s weapon. He removed the ammunition belt from Jakar’s waist, the comm and the transporter booster before sending the medical team scurrying off to the sickbay. There was no reason to delay, so he hurriedly put Jakar’s gear on as he stepped onto the transporter pad. “One to beam down to Dr. Grimm’s location Mr. Scott.”

Scotty and Chekov glanced at each other in surprise, but neither man was slow to realize why Spock was here. It was obvious that he had calculated the risk and believed that it was worth the risk to beam down. As a Vulcan there was a chance that he would not be palatable to the monsters with his copper blood, even though he was one of those who would definitely mutate if he was bitten. The one Andorian the away team had come across hadn’t been eaten, although he had been shredded. Whether or not he had been infected was irrelevant now, thanks to Dr. McCoy. The head and heart shot had made certain that he was dead.

“Aye sir, energizing now,” Scotty said, and beamed Spock down to the same location he’d just rescued Jakar from.


	20. Chapter 20

Life Support Level, Olduvai, Mars

The blood trail was getting worse. Drops of blood were turning into small puddles, and F’rak’ was beginning to panic. F’rik’ should have stopped to staunch his wounds by now. The trail led down two flights of stairs (and F’rak’ flinched at how much just rolling down the stairs must have hurt his brother with his injuries), into what must have been either the life support systems level or the facilities gardens, if not both. The level was now a jungle, one that F’rak’ dove head first into with no hesitation. 

He passed trees that were no taller than his head, covered with fruits. An overgrown grassy area couldn’t quite hide the benches covered in fruiting vines. Everywhere beautiful flowers bloomed, some producing some sort of edible, while most seemingly did not. Someone must have been maintaining the system, even if they hadn’t been maintaining the gardens. The plants would have died from lack of light and water if it hadn’t been worked on. It had probably been the one Dr. Grimm called Thurman. There was no way that the soldier Sarge had been could have maintained such an intricate scientific structure.

“F’rak’, F’rik’s life signs are becoming unstable,” Lieutenant’s Uhura’s voice reverberated against F’rak’s tympanic membrane. “And I’m hearing sounds…” her concern and worry were audible to everyone who was listening to the comms.

Kirk swung his chair around to look at his communications officer, but just as he opened his mouth Scotty chimed in. “I’ve been trying to beam him into quarantine, but we’re having no luck. He must have lost his transporter booster. He’s deep inside the facility, and the alloy that Huey, Dewy, and Louie reported on makes it damn near impossible to beam anything into or out that deep without one.”

“Just do your best Scotty, Chekov,” Kirk said, only to hear Reaper counter his order.

“Don’t bother. He’ll be dead long before you can beam him out,” Reaper said, his voice cold and commanding. “I’ve heard those sounds before,” he explained. “Dewy, are you anywhere near the center of the facility? See if you can meet up with F’rak’.”

“Of course doctor,” the young Horta chimed.

Everything within F’rak’ protested Doctor McCoy’s orders, but as he burst out into the middle of the lab he could see exactly what the doctor was talking about. Two of the monsters were hovering over his brother’s body, fighting each other for their right to eat him. It was the first time that he’d gotten a good look at a person mutated by the C24, and he fully understood why both Doctor McCoy and Doctor Grimm referred to them as monsters. Internal body parts showed in places they had no right to be. Claws and rending teeth had replaced more friendly versions of the same. Even their skin was a mix of pasty grey, green and reddish brown, which when breached by the opponent’s claws bled a sickening mix of red blood and black clumps.

F’rik’ lay slightly uncurled between them, bleeding profusely from his wounds. There was no way his brother would survive with the extent of his injuries, not with the sheer amount of blood that covered the floor around him. F’rik’ was probably unconscious, a blessing considering the amount of pain he would be in if he wasn’t, but that made little difference to F’rak’. Without stopping he raised his weapons high and charged the two monsters, emitting the battle cry of his ancestors. Even if he couldn’t save his brother’s life, he would at least make certain that F’rik’s carapace was sent back home with honors.

Sarge lifted his head and growled a soft laugh at the sounds of battle. The new ones had found prey. As stupid and young as they were it would be easy to steal that prey right out from under them, and with any luck it would be one of the ones that Reaper had brought with him. He hurried up to the next level and stealthily made his way towards the sounds of fighting. Something else had joined in the fight, making a loud skreetchit sound that Sarge couldn’t identify, not that it mattered to him. If he was lucky it would be one of the strange ones that Reaper had brought. That meant more meat for the taking, which in turn would bring more pain to Reaper’s soft heart.

When Sarge reached the battle he could see that it was a free for all between two of the young ones and a giant pillbug. Sarge smiled at their foolishness. These children had no real idea of how to fight in combat. They had left their prey (a second bug) unguarded, and it would be easy to pull its body away from the fight. Sarge crept along one of the overgrown pathways until he reached the hedge of roses. True to his expectations none of them noticed F’rik’ being pulled away into the dense foliage at all. All three were far too busy trying to injure the others to pay any attention at all. 

‘Foolish children’, he thought. ‘Once they left this place they would learn or he would kill them and eat them as well.’ The only reason he hadn’t eaten the scientist was because he had kept this place alive, and Sarge had no wish to try and live without breathing. Once he was well away from the fight he settled in for the sort of meal he hadn’t had in centuries.

F’rak’ had thrown himself into fighting the two monsters that had killed his brother. He was so blinded by his fury and grief that he did not see the two swiftly moving blurs that moved towards him from different directions, nor had he seen F’rik’s body being drawn away into the bushes. His blindness was the reason that Huey had to bump him away from the two monsters with his upper crust, preventing his fellow crewman from being hit with the two Horta’s acid blasts. The two creatures were quickly reduced to monster shaped ash shadows on the floor. Once they were simply blackened stains on the floor they looked around and all three of the Enterprise crewmen saw that F’rik’s body was gone. Only Lieutenant Uhura could have translated the hissing and clacking noises that followed this discovery; not that anyone would have asked her to after getting one look at her expression. Somethings did not need to be explained.

 

Olduvai – Living Quarters

 

Someone really should have told Doctor Grimm that Spock was beaming down. He had realized this a split second after she had kicked him through the partially open door of one of the personal quarters as he had no warning between materialization and landing on his back. The rest of the second passed in Doctor Grimm’s movement to place him in an undesirable position with two of her weapons pointed directly at his head and the placement of a Human heart. For a brief moment he was grateful that the genetic engineers who had designed him had been Vulcan and thus had designed his physiology to be primarily Vulcan. His heart was located where Humans had their livers. At this moment that was more than optimal as he had no desire to experience what it would be like to have his heart pierced with a bullet.

"SPOCK?!” she gasped.

“Damnit you idiot, what the hell are you doing down here!?!” Reaper roared into his comm.

“Doctor calm yourself. While I am aware that my genetic history would indicate that I would be a candidate for mutation, so would the Andorian whom you have already dealt with. There was no indication that the Andorian was bitten; instead his body, while badly damaged, was neither eaten, nor mutated. I believe that the mutated persons responsible found him to be unpalatable due to the composition of his blood; therefore the same should hold true for myself.” Spock got up off the floor. “Regardless, Doctor Grimm requires someone to take Crewman Jakar’s position.”

A pain filled silence followed Spock’s declaration for a few moments. Reaper was well aware that his sister needed the help, but Spock was one of the people he did not want to risk. He and Sam had a much higher chance of survival than his friends did. “You get yourself killed I swear I will find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you,” Reaper snarled. “Sam watch the walking computer’s back.” 

“Doctor you are being quite illogical,” Spock said calmly as he quickly scanned the corridor that he had just materialized in. 

Muttered cursing could be heard from McCoy’s comm and Sam glared at Spock. She holstered one of her guns so that she could use the back of that hand to smack his shoulder. “He’s worried about you, you idiot. We don’t get close to a lot of people for obvious reasons. Come on, we’ve got work to do.” Spock was well aware of this, but chose not to explain to Doctor Grimm that he was merely continuing the method of communication that he and Doctor McCoy had developed over the course of the last year. If he had said anything else it would have broken the unwritten rule that stated they would never admit that they actually enjoyed each other’s company.

Sam and Spock had just finished clearing the living level when they heard F’rak’s fight with two of the mutated scientists. They were too far away from the life support level to make it there in time to make a difference in the fight. All they could do was listen as F’rak’ fought to try and save his brother’s body from being eaten. Sam didn’t say what she knew her brother was thinking when they heard F’rik’s body being dragged away. There was nothing they could do, and mentioning Sarge (who was the most likely candidate for the monster taking F’rik’s body as it was Huey who had joined Dewy in the fight) would only hurt John. She had never heard Horta attacking before, but the screams of the mutated scientists as they dissolved in the acid bath was rather satisfying once Spock told her what was happening. At least two more of the mutated were taken care of. 

“Living level clear,” Sam said as she and Spock sealed the last set of rooms, silently telling the others to get back to work.

“Personal labs, level two, clear,” Reaper reported. “Continuing down.”

 

Archeological Dig Site – UAC Complex – Nevada, Earth

 

The Kid had been all too easy to find. Laid out on the floor, his body had not been disturbed since his death. The hole in his neck was obvious, allowing everyone to see how he had died. “Why was he shot?” Erib wanted to know as she led Admiral Pike and Commander Number One over to where The Kid’s body lay. “I don’t think that any of the mutated scientists could have handled one of the RRTS’ weapons. The trigger guards are too small for their fingers to fit through; those that have fingers.”

“His commanding officer lost his hold on reality. The operation was so far outside his experience that he simply couldn’t handle it. Humans mutating into cannibalistic monsters was probably his ultimate nightmare. As I understand it, he shot The Kid when he refused to shoot twenty unarmed and uninfected civilians, including small children and infants,” Pike shook his head sadly. “It didn’t help that the commanding officer was one of those especially susceptible to being infected. He was dragged off and infected about twenty minutes after he shot Kid and less than two minutes after they lost Duke. Their medic and his sister were the only ones to make it out of here alive.”

“I think we found the bodies of that group,” Number One said grimly. “They were hiding in a barricaded store room well away from every other body we’ve found. What the hell are these idiots thinking, digging this death trap up again?”

“Why don’t we ask them?” Pike growled.


	21. Chapter 21

Sickbay, Enterprise – Mars Orbit above Olduvai

 

Christine Chapel hated not being involved in a medical situation. That was the real reason that she was personally supervising the quarantine of the ten UAC personnel that had been inside the Mars facility. The rest of the medical department thought she was simply drowning her grief over losing crewman Jakar. The Andorian had suffered a fatal embolism as a result of how hard he had struck his head down in the Mars facility. By the time he had been rushed into surgery it was simply too late. There had been nothing anyone could have done to help him.

Christine was well aware of this and while she was sorrowful over the man’s death, she wasn’t blaming herself the way the others thought she was. She simply had a need to help those patients that she could help at the moment. She didn’t know exactly what they were being quarantined for (something else she wasn’t happy about, she was only the head nurse after all!) but Doctor McCoy’s orders had specifically told her to watch for physical mutations, especially with the woman who had been quarantined by herself. 

None of the patients had shown any sign of infection, injury (Nyota had told her to look for bite marks when she had relayed Doctor McCoy’s orders concerning the patients) or mutation, but even with a fast incubation rate Christine wasn’t going to take any chances. She’d seen enough during her year on the Enterprise to know that the only thing certain was that anything could and would happen. 

She shook her head as she remembered going to the supply sergeant to get some building compound that Doctor McCoy had used to treat the Mother Horta’s phaser wound during that first contact mission. That had been a really brilliant way to seal and heal a silicon creature’s injury. Christine hoped that Doctor McCoy could pull off yet another brilliant plan with whatever pestilence had overwhelmed the people planetside this time.

“Miss Christine?” Jo-Anna asked. She was sitting at the observation desk with her homework in front of her. She was supposed to be studying beginning physiologies of Federation species. Instead she was ignoring it in favor of staring at Justine Milton, the woman who was in private quarantine.

“Yes sweetie?” Christine asked as she jotted down the readings from the medical sensors for the multiple person quarantine. 

“Is she in trouble? Because she looks like she did something bad and she’s gonna get caught. But since she’s in there, didn’t she get caught already?” Jo-Anna asked, confused.

“All of these people are in quarantine because they were down in the base where your dad and aunt are, not because they’re in trouble. There is something down there that’s making people sick. Whatever it is has a short incubation period, but I’m not taking any chances so they’ll stay in isolation until Doctor McCoy gets back and clears them. It’s much better to be triple sure than to take a chance with deadly diseases,” Christine explained as she moved to check the other medical sensors.

Jo-Anna put on her most stubborn expression. She got up from the desk, walked over to the large window that looked into the iso room and glared at Milton with her arms crossed. “Just what did you do?” she growled. Christine had to turn away to hide her amusement. There was no doubt that this was Leonard McCoy’s daughter, or that she was not about to accept that the woman hadn’t done anything worse than accidentally walking into a plague site.

“I didn’t do anything!” Milton protested, but her eyes shifted away from the little girl as though she couldn’t stand to see her just accusation. There was something in her voice that caught Christine’s attention. Doctors and nurses alike were used to patients lying to them and soon learned to spot those lies because it was often important to the patient’s health. People did try to hide the most idiotic things when they were embarrassed, and what was worse was the fact that it often was important for the medical team to know these things.

“You shouldn’t lie to little kids,” Jo-Anna scolded. “It stunts their development and makes you look really stupid. Now my daddy had to go down there to fix whatever’s going wrong. Now you ‘fess up, or I’ll tell the captain on you!”

 

DOOMTREKDOOMTREKDOOMTREK

 

Christine Chapel burst onto the bridge, not caring in the least that it made her look like a panic stricken cadet. Unlike most of the crew, she knew that this mission was on the hush, hush side; otherwise she’d be down there with Doctor McCoy and the rest of the medical staff, not getting skimpy orders relayed through Lieutenant Uhura. “There’s more people down there!” she cried, as she accidentally slammed into the captain’s chair. “Justine Milton, the woman who gave you the head count, she lied about how many people had gone into the facility.”

“How many more!” Kirk demanded.

“Five, Jo-Anna got her to confess.” Christine paused while Kirk relayed the information to Doctor McCoy. A quick look around the bridge during that time found the bridge strangely deserted. Uhura was at her station as was Lieutenant Sulu, but that was all, and the captain wasn’t at his station but Commander Spock’s. One look at the main screen showed her why. The screen was separated into ten sections, each showing the view from a different camera. One camera showed Doctor McCoy with a large antique rifle in his hands. In shock, (this was the same man who refused to carry a phaser!) Christine said, “Nyota you really need to copy the footage from iso room one. It’s one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

“GOD DAMN IT!” Reaper yelled. “I thought we were almost done down here!” He paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d been distracted by thoughts of Sarge and what had happened two centuries ago to the point of stupidity. He never would have simply accepted the woman’s claims that only five people had gone into Olduvai otherwise. He knew how these scientist types of people felt about making sure that only they had claims to their dig sites. “Jim, how many people did you beam into quarantine? We know that ship could only have brought twenty people, and it’s only made the trip once.”

“We beamed up ten,” Kirk reported.

“I’ve got Justine Milton, the woman you questioned, in solitary isolation and the rest in group isolation doctor,” Christine reported. “There are no signs of injury, infection, or mutation in any of them.”

“Ok, that means we’ve got six more to find plus Sarge; that puts us at halfway through,” Reaper figured. “F’rak’ stay with Huey and Dewy. I don’t want anyone left on their own. Sarge will be looking for weaknesses and that would be a big one. Louie where are you?”

“I inside ARK chamber doctor,” Louie reported. “Dead Human here. Human small, bones new, negative old, small monster meal.” Of all three Horta he was the one who had least mastered the intricacies of soft person languages. Fortunately he wasn’t working with people who had low mental capacities and they could figure out what he meant most of the time. When they couldn’t one of his brothers were usually close by to translate.

“Why am I not surprised?” Reaper snarked. He knew that not everyone in the UAC group could have been susceptible to infection. Someone had to have died as a meal because there really were only three choices when dealing with the mutated and the third one, simply being killed without being eaten; only seemed to apply to those with blood that was incompatible with the monster’s taste buds. Stupid idiots deserved what they got for reopening this hellhole. 

John knew that he really didn’t mean that, no one deserved to die that way, but he just wanted out of here. This was the place of his worst nightmares. Not even living through two of the worst wars in Human history had given him nightmares to equal the ones from this place. He was about to tell Louie to team up with Sam and Spock when a soft sound grabbed his attention. “Contact,” he whispered to Stormskies.

They both quickly checked the large central storage area they were clearing. “Oh great,” Reaper moaned as he spotted two shapes launching themselves at him and Stormskies from one of the side rooms. “This just really isn’t my day.” 

“What is it John?” Sam asked, leading Spock into the maintenance level.

“Zombies,” he snarled, shooting at the shambling, but extremely quick, mutated men. 

“Did he say zombies?” Uhura asked, startled. She turned around to take a quick look at the main screen. Her station’s screens only showed the away team’s life signs, not what they were seeing. She’d heard stories in her childhood about walking dead men, but she’d always known that they were just that – stories. On the other hand, what she saw on the main screen was far too close to those old stories for her to not understand just why Doctor McCoy had named the men that.

“Looks like the real thing to me,” Kirk smirked. He too was watching Reaper and Stormskies shoot at the mutating men. “I almost expect them to start moaning ‘BRAINS!’”

“I almost wish they were. They’d be a lot less lethal that way,” Reaper yelled over the snarling, dodging a knife swinging his way. 

Uhura rolled her eyes. “Shall I order some holomovies while we’re in system captain?” There wasn’t a whole lot she could say to Kirk that wouldn’t be considered insubordinate, but her tone would let him know exactly what she thought about his remarks.

“I think Bones would shoot me if you did,” Kirk grinned.

“Damned right I would!” Reaper snarled as he ducked a large set of claws. The two mutating men were not the only ones making noise. Stormskies was yowling in frustration as she tried to both stay out of Reaper’s and the zombies’ way and shoot the zombiefied men before they could get a grip on her partner. This was made even more difficult by the speed at which all three men were moving. No one had any warning when two arms, only one of which had a hand, grabbed Stormskies around the waist and dragged her off.

 

UAC Headquarter, Earth

 

‘Komack, that paranoid bastard!’ Pike snarled to himself. His fellow admiral had long been a pain in Pike’s ass but this was pushing things too far. This was the leak that Pike had worried about. Komack had written a dissertation on the UAC’s role in the Eugenics War and WW3. If there was anyone that was outside of the twin’s confidence who had any idea at all about what had gone on at Olduvai, it was him. 

The paranoia that had overtaken the man after Vulcan’s destruction had no doubt had him hunting down anything that he thought would destroy the Romulans, and in the process he had reopened the biggest can of worms in the quadrant. It was made just that much worse knowing that the Romulans were on their best behavior with the Federation because they had their hands full with the Klingons, who didn’t care that they had nothing to do with Nero and his insanity. If there was going to be a war it was going to be between those two Empires, not between the Romulan Empire and the Federation.

“You have no right to do this!” Komack yelled at Pike as the security officers pulled him out of the UAC’s boardroom.

“You have become just as much of an idiot as the original UAC people behind this mess,” Pike growled. “The plague that they created would destroy every life form it comes into contact with. There is no way to cure it and once it is let loose, it would be only a matter of hours before everyone who came into contact in any way, shape or form was dead. If you really wanted to go around doing Nero’s work for him, you’ve found a great way to do it.” He turned back to the rest of the men and women sitting around the boardroom table. “As for the rest of you, you will be undergoing interrogation by a Betaziod telepath to find out exactly which ones among you were part of this attempt at treason – no exceptions.”


	22. Chapter 22

Olduvai, Mars

 

Reaper:

Stormskies’ abduction did not go unnoticed. Reaper had his hands full with the two mutated men, but that didn’t stop him. He sped up his attack, dropping his weapon and using his bare hands knock their attacks aside so that he could rip their hearts out of their bodies. “SAM, SPOCK! Something took Stormskies!” Reaper yelled. It wasn’t as efficient as shooting them, but the way they had closed in on him he really didn’t have much of a choice.

“We’re coming John,” Sam reassured him.

“On our way Doctor!” called Huey and Dewy.

“Be careful! We’ve still got people unaccounted for,” Reaper ordered. The feel of flesh parting to allow his hand inside the creature he is attacking was something that he really didn’t want to remember later, but he knew that he would. Removing the men’s hearts, throwing them away really, that meant the men fell to the ground allowing Reaper the chance to bring his weapon back to bear on the newly created monsters. He shot them both in the head, causing their brains to explode before turning around to see where the hearts had landed. He repeated his actions on a best to be sure basis before beginning to run in the direction he could still hear Stormskies’ yowls of rage.

“Comprehension!” Louie sang out as the young Horta turned from the ARK chamber and headed deeper into the complex. No one heard Sarge laughing over the children’s antics. Having abandoned the hard shell remains of his meal where Reaper would be sure to see it, Sarge went after the missing newcomers. He would send them after the moving rocks, and while they were busy trying to kill that which could not die nor be eaten, he would have the satisfaction of killing off Reaper and his pathetic twin. He might even be able to kill the others and make another meal of their remains.

 

Sam:

“I hope that you can keep up Spock,” was all the warning Spock got as Samantha sped up, releasing the C24 hunter she usually kept under wraps. The half Vulcan was quicker than she had imagined, able to keep her in sight as they ran through the complex in the direction that she could barely hear Stormskies’ screams coming from. Now Sam wasn’t really familiar with Stormskies’ people, but she had known several species of felines including her own house cats. She knew the difference between screaming in terror and pissed off. Stormskies was not scared. 

Sam’s main concern was that Stormskies would forget her training and get in over her head before John could bail her out. Samantha hadn’t served in Star Fleet’s security division for many years. In fact, the last time was when she and John had served together in the MACO’s aboard the Enterprise NX-01, Star Fleet’s very first starship nearly a century previous.  
As usual when one of the twins had radically stepped out of their comfort zone, it was because one twin had lost a bet to the other; that particular bet had both of them conceding points. Sam would join the MACO’s and John would not disappear if they had to travel in space. That trip had not helped John’s fear of space or transporters, (in fact it had increased his aviatophobia to include spaceships) but it had helped Sam to understand her brother better and through him, other people who served in security. 

So she knew what sort of training that Stormskies’ had and the likelihood that it would hold and under what conditions. John’s sudden burst of cursing, showing off just what being nearly immortal and having genius intelligence could do to a soldier’s vocabulary, did not bode well for Stormskies. “JOHN, WE’RE ALMOST THERE! HOLD ON STORMSKIES!”

 

Reaper:

‘Of course Sarge would pick the worst possible time to spring this on me,’ Reaper thought. The sick, disgusting, and precisely chosen prank was designed to bring Reaper the maximum amount of grief and nausea. Unfortunately for Reaper, his memory of that particular mission was still all too clear even though it had taken place a year before he’d gone to Olduvai the first time. 

Reaper, still cursing as loudly as he could to try and drown out the memories, carefully picked up the carapace that was all that remained of one of the kids he was leading. He didn’t need to look at the message written on the wall above where the carapace had lain to know what it said. The words ‘Just like Brazil’ echoed through his entire being.

“JOHN, WE’RE ALMOST THERE!” came from his comm. 

His sister, Reaper remembered gratefully, was one of only three people who still knew about that long ago mission. “Sam, Sarge left me a note along with F’rik’s carapace. ‘Just like Brazil’,” he sent over his comm. She would know what it meant.

Her burst of anger helped to sooth his soul in a way that nothing else could. His twin was here, and she had remembered and understood the message. “That sick fuck! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU SARGE, YOU’LL WISH YOU’D NEVER BEEN BORN!” Sam had yelled out the last sentence in order to make sure that Sarge was able to hear it, no matter where he was in the facility. Reaper was sure that he had been hanging around close enough to hear everything that was going on, as well as pull off any action he decided needed done.

“Bones?” Kirk asked. The captain’s voice held a note of concern which didn’t surprise Reaper. He hadn’t talked about that mission when he’d told Brat and Hobgoblin about Olduvai, and with both he and Sam reacting the way they were, well the man was right to be worried. 

“The Hellfighters were sent to Brazil about a year before Olduvai. We ran out of rations fairly quickly in what turned out to be a bitch of mission. We ended up having to scavenge for food as we tried to complete our objective. As the team medic it was my job to make sure that nothing we ate was going to poison us. Being soldiers, well there was a lot of teasing the youngest members of the squad by the older members, up to and including jokes about cannibalism. One of the few foods we found that were safe to eat were various insects,” Reaper explained gruffly. 

The silence that came from the comm (both from the bridge crew and the away team) was underscored by the barely audible growl that could only have come from a certain Vulcan throat. McCoy had only heard that happen once, a year ago, and was thankful that Spock had only lost that much control on his behalf. The last thing he wanted was for a pissed off Vulcan to be running through Olduvai. That sort of thing was the stuff his nightmares were made of, especially when they featured his friends. 

They all understood the significance of what Sarge had left for him. The implication that Sarge was able to understand that by eating F’rik’ he was combining both instances revealed much more than his need for revenge on Reaper. Sarge’s insanity was now on display for everyone to see. As much as he would have liked to hide that from them, it wasn’t worth their (the away team) lives, and honestly it wasn’t as if they hadn’t figured it out long before now anyway.

Reaper ran up the stairs, the weight of the carapace nothing to his C24 enhanced muscular system. He was still following the trail that Stormskies had been leaving of her abductor’s blood. She wasn’t making it easy for it and the sight lifted the rest of Reaper’s spirits. His kids were fighting back. The trail led back to the main level. He burst through the doors, heedless of any danger that might lay in wait. Nothing could hurt him for long, and he was needed. He shouldn’t have been surprised that the monster was trying to hole up in the weapons lab.

Trying to was the operative term. Everyone converged upon the two at the same time; even Sarge came out of the shadows to see the show. Well, only to the enhanced senses of an Olduvai mutant, but it was far more than Reaper had imagined he’d come. Had the man lost all of his tactical skills by sitting around here for the last two centuries? At that point two things happened, one – F’rak’ went after the creature that had killed his brother, causing it to release Stormskies. Two – Sam spotted Sarge and tore into him, actually pulling chunks out of whatever portion of his body that she could reach with her bare hands. 

Reaper did realize that those not engaged in the fights were staring at him. “What? Didn’t any of you learn not to mess with a momma bear?” he asked flippantly. “Jo-Anna and I are the only family Sam has.” He also didn’t bother to mention the fact that his sister was going for maximum damage rather than death. C24 may have insured that they all healed instantly from any injury save a high velocity impact to the brain or heart, preferably both, but that didn’t mean that any injury didn’t hurt. Sam was doing her best to make Sarge pay.

“What is a momma bear, doctor?” Dewy asked, curiously as Sarge turned and ran, with Sam running after him. That was not good, Reaper knew. It meant that Sarge was just drawing her deeper into the complex so that he could turn the tables on her. She might have grown up here, but Sarge had lived here for the last two centuries. Apparently Reaper was wrong about Sarge’s tactical skills. At least he remembered enough to know how Sarge loved setting traps for the enemy in order to pick them off one by one. 

“Huey, Louie, stay here with F’rak’!” Reaper said as he ran after Sam, leading Spock, and Dewy. He put on his top speed knowing that the Horta could easily keep up and that, although it would be difficult, Spock and Stormskies could at least keep within visual range. The Meroraw, having relinquished the killing of her abductor to her teammate as F’rak’ had a higher claim on the creature’s life, would go with them to try and take out the more dangerous enemy. Sometimes that xeno-cultural stuff he’d had to learn in the academy paid off.

“A bear is a Terran animal, a non-sentient life form. A momma bear is what you would call an egg layer with a hatched egg, although bears give live birth because they are mammals. When its offspring is threatened it becomes incredibly dangerous to anything it believes to be a threat. That is why Humans have a saying about not messing with momma bear. It means that triggering the maternal instinct to protect is a very bad idea,” McCoy explained to the young Horta.  
“It also applies to over protective big sisters,” Jim added teasingly over the comms.

“Damned straight it does,” Reaper replied. “I’m not looking forward to having two of them looking after me.” All that met his grumbling was a burst of laughter from those on the bridge. They’d gotten to know Sam Grimm and Jo-Anna McCoy, and were grateful that their grumpy doctor would always have someone just like him to look after him as he had looked after them when they were gone.

 

DoomStarTrekDoomStarTrekDoomStarTrekDoom

 

Neither Huey, nor Louie were able to help F’rak’ in his battle this time. The Po’fun’kii was not about to let either of them claim this kill, not with this creature being responsible for the death of his twin brother, and if they tried to move the insectazoid aside, they’d probably injure him. Unfortunately, F’rak’ was not nearly as deadly as the creature he faced. In a matter of moments it had him caught in its enormous jaws, and it easily bit him in half. 

“Huey, Louie, don’t let it escape!” Kirk ordered. The two Horta, already anticipating Kirk’s orders each leaned back to spray the monster that had killed two of their teammates now that their actions could only harm the enemy. Their acid attacks did the trick, leaving only F’rak’s carapace, what had been left of it at least, as anything other than a black stain on the ground. “Beam both carapace’s back to the ship. Put them into quarantine in Sickbay.” While Jim wasn’t sure if the C24 was able to survive the Horta’s acid attack it was a fairly reasonable assumption as long as he wasn’t a complete idiot over the matter. He’d have Bones take a look as soon as he returned from the Mars facility. At least there would be something to return to their family back on their homeworld.

“Aye sir,” came the subdued response from both Scotty and Chekov.


	23. Chapter 23

San Francisco, Earth

Ambassador Spock, accompanied by his not-quite father Ambassador Sarek, quietly stormed through the halls of Star Fleet headquarters where the conference on New Vulcan’s progress was being held. The elderly man’s stride was so similar to the late Lady Amanda’s in a similar situation that it was all Sarek could do to suppress the emotions the observation brought out in him. Instead, he tried to understand what had brought his not-son to such a state of emotional distress.

It was natural for Ambassador Spock to be curious about the Enterprise. Sarek’s son Spock, the ambassador’s younger self, was the First Officer and the ambassador was also friends with Captain Kirk. Sarek could only assume this friendship had come about from the elder Vulcan’s years of service with his own James Kirk as the two men had spent less than a handful of hours in each other’s presence. So his enquiry into Sarek’s journey, with the request for more details about his time on Enterprise was logical. The ambassador had informed him that it had been the best time in his long life, and the command crew had been his only true family aside from his mother.

The ambassador had told him about Ambassador Spock’s Kirk and their many adventures together as a way for Spock to persuade him not to turn his back on his son, as apparently he had done in the other timeline. Sarek could not imagine that happening to them now, but accepted the fact that the man had knowledge of the uncontaminated timeline. Sarek looked at the knowledge he was gaining as a warning of what could be if he were to be too stubborn. He had lost his wife to a Romulan madman. He had no wish to lose his son to stupidity, no matter how young his son was now. One day he would become something very similar to this wise elder who brought such hope to their people when they truly needed it. 

Spock’s distress upon finding out that the Enterprise was currently in orbit around Mars on a top secret mission, (several small facts from different sources had led Sarek to this conclusion) was not logical. Nor was his increased distress when he had gone to check for himself on the Enterprise’s location, or his demand for a personal meeting with Admiral Pike, who was in charge of the Enterprise’s orders. In short, Sarek was torn between belief that his not-son was succumbing to age and that something had happened in his universe that was truly terrible at that location. He had gotten to know his not-son far too well to really believe that he was giving in to age.

“Admiral Pike, why is the Enterprise in orbit above Olduvai? Has someone in Star Fleet lost their minds and decided that the abandoned facility of an ancient Eugenics’ War company holds the key to the current situation with Romulus?” Spock demanded to know when the admiral wheeled into the private conference room. Spock had already ensured that the room’s privacy barriers were already up. No one would be able to eavesdrop on this particular meeting.

The only thing keeping Pike from visibly quaking in his boots was his long service as a starship captain. Ambassador Spock was truly terrifying when he was visibly angry – not to mention the fact that Pike had served with his younger self and knew just how much it took for the man to let even this much emotion be seen. “Unfortunately yes,” Admiral Pike told him soberly. “Admiral Komack has been arrested for treason to the Federation as has the current board of the UAC. I’m guessing that the Enterprise of your universe was ordered to clean up the mess when it happened there?”

“No, thank all that is good in every universe,” Spock said as he lowered himself into a chair. “In my universe I was required to mind meld with four Enterprise away team officers during a mission. One of those officers was Doctor McCoy.” He stared hard at Pike, wanting to know if he understood the significance of knowing that particular officer’s mind and memories. 

“My God,” Pike blanched. He could not imagine living through Reaper’s memories of that horror.  
Spock gave Pike a slight smile. “Indeed, however in this universe that experience has served me well. If it were not for those particular memories, I would never have gone to Gol and learned the mental techniques that they practiced there, including those used by the Healers.”

All three men were very aware that none of the Vulcans evacuated from the destruction of their home world were Healers, nor was anyone able to evacuate from Gol, one of the primary religious temples on Vulcan. That anyone had survived that knew those people, their practices and their history was a something a miracle, not to mention that every Healer of any type was swamped in dealing with the inevitable PTSD that every Vulcan was experiencing because of their home world’s destruction and the massive number of broken bonds that resulted. With only three Vulcan colonies with only a handful of Healers each, anyone who knew anything at all of the Healing arts was very badly needed. “You’re not an Adept yourself sir, but is it possible for you to teach someone else?” Pike asked hopefully.

Both Vulcans could feel Pike’s careful joy that something so dear to their culture might be able to be recreated, and Sarek was struck once again at how these Humans were so compassionate, so willing to do anything they could to help the Vulcan people. Any report of progress was always met with such positive emotions. Sarek was actually glad that the Vulcan elders were the ones that were required to travel to these meetings. It allowed the elders the chance to rest, and it got them out of the negative, and grief stricken aura of New Vulcan. “I achieved all but the last stage of Kolinahr, Admiral, but that was because I had no wish to give up my emotions, only to heal the trauma. I am able however, to help those who wish it to achieve that state.” 

“As far as anyone else is concerned, Komack and his co-conspirators have been arrested for conspiring to spread a bio-engineered plague against unnamed enemies. The details of the plague, other than the fact that it is so virulent that there literally isn’t any time for a cure to be synthesized before everyone who comes into even the slightest contact is mutated and or dead, much less anytime to do any research into finding a cure, has never been placed into any records. The only people who know the details are the twins, myself, you and anyone Doctor McCoy has briefed because of this mission. His orders are deal with the situation as he sees fit. He has complete authority,” Pike explained, tactfully changing the subject away from what could potentially be a breach of privacy. The last thing he wanted was for either ambassador to think that he was being nosy about things that were strictly Vulcan in nature.

The elderly Vulcan relaxed, and both Sarek and Pike were rather surprised at just how the information pleased him. On the other hand, Pike was suspicious that Spock had feared that Star Fleet would attempt to try and take control of the situation rather than trust the one person who knew what had happened there the first time and had survived it. The twins were the only ones Pike would even dream of putting in charge of that particular operation. No one else, save the ambassador, knew exactly what it was like facing those monsters and knew what it would take to survive. “What is to happen to Komack and his co-conspirators?” Sarek asked.

“The trial has already been completed and their sentence carried out. The sentence decided was execution,” Pike admitted soberly. “They were beamed out into space, with no buffer for pattern capturing and a wide dispersal sequence used.” It was a painless way to die. Too painless in Pike’s opinion, but then he hadn’t been consulted considering the fact that he was the one bringing the charges against them.

“And the Enterprise’s mission?” Spock asked.

“Is to make certain that everyone who set foot on that base is accounted for and then to blow the damned thing sky high,” Pike said bluntly. “As it is, I’ve got the entire group that was exploring the Nevada site quarantined until I can have Doctor McCoy clear them. Although, if you have experienced what he has, could I ask you to do so? I want this thing dealt with as quickly as possible. The thought of even one infected person slipping through my fingers is enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.”

“Indeed,” Spock agreed. “Having experienced those same nightmares myself in my youth, I too have no wish to invite them to return. Have you recovered the bodies of The Kid and Duke?”

“We have,” Pike said, a shudder running through his frame. Those poor young men. The Kid had been aptly named. If he had been older than twenty when he died, Pike would resign his commission on the spot. Duke couldn’t have even hit thirty yet. “They’re in stasis right now, pending Doctor McCoy’s examination and decision for the disposal of the remains. The Kid was still intact – nothing tried to eat him, and Duke…well Duke was severely torn up, but his head was basically intact and the body was still somewhat recognizable as RRTS. Honestly, I’m mostly worried about any contamination that might result from the injuries the mutated inflicted upon him.”

“Truly something to be concerned about,” Spock admitted. “I will help you to triage those who were at the Nevada site, and the two RRTS Marines.” For the ancient Marine’s sake, Spock hoped that there would be nothing that would prevent the bodies of his squad mates being released into his care. In fact, there were a few sites that would be proper for the men to be interred if Reaper could get the proper permission. A bit of a political nudge in the right direction couldn’t hurt.

 

DOOMTREKDOOMTREKDOOMTREK

 

The UAC people were not happy about having an elderly Vulcan approach them with a set of ancient medical equipment that he intended to stick in them. However, between the security officers threatening them with phasers and the sheer look on the Vulcan’s face, one and all capitulated and allowed him to take blood samples from each of them. 

They were on their tenth batch of people when they found it. There was a single black blob floating in the man’s blood. “What is that?” he asked, horrified.

“That is the only sign of the mutagen that can be observed before full mutation occurs,” Spock told him harshly. “What contact did you have with the remains and what is your species?”

“I took samples. I took precautions!” he spluttered.

“Obviously not enough,” Spock said, the scorn clearly heard in his voice. “Now what is your species?” he demanded.

“Argelian,” the man stammered, stunned by the sight of the blob floating in his blood sample.

“That would explain why the mutagen is having difficulty in replicating itself. Your people have long since abandoned violence of any kind. The genetics for such have been removed from your society,” Spock told him. “However, enough remains that you are mutating, abet at a greatly reduced rate. What happened to those samples?”

“The security officers took them,” the man gestured to the guards.

Spock nodded and then turned to the security officers. “Remove this man to an isolation room, and set a suicide watch. Do not allow him any contact whatsoever. He will have to wait for Doctor McCoy’s evaluation. Also, bring anyone who has had any contact with those samples here to be tested.” Spock stifled a sigh, both of resignation and relief that this case of infection had been found before the man mutated fully. This was going to be long and harrowing search.


	24. Chapter 24

Enterprise, Mars

The worst part of this for Jim Kirk was having to watch as his two best friends hunted down these monsters without him. If he wasn’t absolutely certain that he’d be catnip to the creatures the UAC people had become, and that they’d mutate him instead of eating him, he’d have insisted on going down and helping anyway. Instead he was stuck here on the bridge watching as one by one his people were killed, and in F’rik’s case, eaten.

The ship’s sensors weren’t giving him much information on where all of the life forms in the facility were. The metal alloy the walls were made of were giving them fits, but he could at least track the transporter boosters the away team wore, and the comm equipment was working to show what the away team was hearing and seeing. Right now that included the hissy fit that Sam Grimm was throwing over having lost Sarge in the maze of passages near the genetics lab. “It’s alright Sam,” he told her. “He isn’t going to let you leave without confronting you. F’rik’ and F’rak’ weren’t able to finish their sweep in the genetics labs. Do you think that you and Spock can finish it?”

“I think we’d better stick together for now Jim, but yeah we’ll finish the sweep,” she told him with a huff at his attempt to console her. She wiped the blood and black nodules off of her hands on her pants. “These are going straight into the incinerator,” she muttered as she removed her guns from their holsters.

“How far did they get Brat?” Reaper asked, taking his sister’s orders about sticking together without arguing. 

That should have shocked Jim because Bones was well known for his argumentative nature, but he knew that the doctor was blaming himself for the two brother’s deaths and would want backup to protect Spock and Stormskies. He also wouldn’t consider Dewy to be backup for the simple reason that the Horta was still very young. The only reason that he’d allowed the trio to come was because there wasn’t any way that Sarge or any other mutant could hurt them. 

That neither of the two vulnerable members of the away team would leave without being ordered to by Jim was something that they all knew, and Jim had run through the odds so many times in the last few hours that he would probably be able to recite them in his sleep for the next year. It never changed his decision though. Stormskies and Spock were needed where they were – as bait. “Just the main lab,” Jim told him. “They were attacked before they could check any of the smaller labs.”

“That means they didn’t check the holding cell,” Reaper said as he motioned Sam to lead the way.  
“Holding cell Doctor?” Spock asked, carefully listening for any movement that was not accounted for by their group, and maintaining the standard sweep pattern.

“Right, where they kept Stahl,” Sam remembered. 

“And where Destroyer was killed,” Reaper growled. 

In the back of his mind Jim wondered what a holding cell/medical torture cell looked like. He’d had plenty of experience with the first, but the second half of the equation was something that he’d been fortunate enough to have skipped. “How are they doing Uhura?” he asked, making certain that the question was not broadcast down to Olduvai.

“Doctor McCoy and Doctor Grimm are both very agitated, but that’s reasonable considering their history here. The Horta are all rather exited, for them anyway. It’s nothing to worry about, still well within normal ranges for their species. Spock’s vitals are as calm as ever,” she said, throwing a glance at Kirk. Both of them knew that vitals were not a good indicator for Vulcans for emotional or physical distress. Vulcans were far too skilled at controlling what were autonomic systems for any other species. “Stormskies appears to be in distress, but I don’t think that it’s physical. She’s bound to be upset after being taken and not being the one to kill her attacker.”

Jim nodded in thanks, switching their broadcasting back on as the group finished their sweep of the genetics labs. There hadn’t been anything there other than the remains of some very questionable experiments, ones that had long since died from the looks of the remains. The only thing left to check was the holding cell.

That was nothing like anyone but Reaper and Sam had expected. The room had bare walls that surrounded what appeared to be a simple hole in the floor. “Would this really hold a Human?” Stormskies asked. Dewy slid into the room and quickly decided that there wasn’t enough room for all of them. He would go guard the entrance with Commander Spock.

“It’ll hold a Human, just not one of us,” Reaper said. “I can jump out of there if I had to.”

Sam joined them at the edge of the cell, and shined her light over the interior. “Nothing here, let’s go.”

“STOP!” Kirk barked. “There’s someone down there. I can see her clearly. It looks like she’s injured.”

“What?” Sam said. “Where?”

“Spock, anything pushing at your shields?” McCoy asks at the same time, knowing where this was probably going. This wasn’t the first time some meddling telepath tried to muck things up for an Enterprise away team.

Spock closed his eyes, and Jim ground his teeth. It was hard, very hard for him not to say anything, but he knew that even if he did, most likely the away team still wouldn’t be able to see the girl. The bridge crew could see her clearly, from the blood running from her dark hair and down her cheek to her obviously broken leg. Jim could see that the poor thing was scared to death, and while he wasn’t a doctor, he did know that if she didn’t get help soon she wasn’t going to need it anymore.

Abruptly Spock opened his eyes, and Jim could see the flash of concern and worry before Spock could conceal it. “She is there Doctor. I believe that she is Betazoid and using her telepathy to keep those who have mutated from finding her.”

 

Olduvai, Mars

 

“Shit,” Bones muttered. “Spock show me where she is so I don’t land on her.” Wordlessly Spock pointed to the woman’s location. Bones noted it as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. He jumped down on the opposite side of the cell, landing gracefully in a crouch. He was thankful that the system that electrified the cell walls had failed. The last thing his patient needed was to be jolted like that. “Ma’am, can you hear me? My name is Leonard McCoy. I’m the CMO of the Starship Enterprise.”

“She is not responding Doctor,” Spock said. He gripped the edge of the cell wall, eased his body over the edge and dropped down to the cell floor. “I believe that she may be too traumatized to understand that we are not her enemies.”

“If you break your leg, so help me I’ll make every physical that you have for the rest of the mission absolute misery you green blooded Hobgoblin!” Bones growled.

“I assure you Doctor that will not be necessary. Your noxious potions are quite sufficient in that matter,” Spock returned the insult with the ease of much practice.

“Jim, are they always this bad?” Sam asked from where she and Stormskies had joined Dewy in guarding the door.

“Yep,” Jim said with a grin. “As long as they’re sniping at each other, all is well in my universe.”

“Spock, can you knock her out? I don’t dare try and treat her without being able to see her injuries,” Bones asked. He’d pulled out his tricorder, but he couldn’t make out the readings that he knew were there. Damned telepaths, always making his job harder than it needed to be.  
Spock walked over to the woman, who tried to move away but was too weak to do so. He gently placed his hand over the necessary nerves, and pinched down. The woman fell unconscious, revealing her existence to McCoy. McCoy began scanning her the moment he saw her clearly. “Skull fracture, broken arms, left leg broken and right ankle broken, damn it all to hell one of those things threw her down here like a rag doll,” Bones cursed, doing his best to stabilize her enough so that she wouldn’t die on him while he examined her for bite marks.

“A logical supposition,” Spock offered as he acted as a second pair of hands for McCoy. McCoy just huffed at him, too busy with trying to save the woman’s life to verbally spar with his favorite opponent at the moment. Between the two of them, they did manage to stabilize her, although there wasn’t much they could do for her down here. She needed to be up on the Enterprise. McCoy knew this, but there was no way in hell he was going to send her up there until he’d made certain that she wasn’t infected. He was not letting that nightmare loose on his ship.

For once it looked like he was going to be able to save someone from this hell hole. There were no bite marks at all on the woman, not even any injuries that might have been a bite mark. She had to have used her abilities to prevent it as telepathy was one of the few things that he, and therefore the monsters, couldn’t fight against, that is if they even knew what she was doing. No one knew just how much mental cognizance someone retained while they were still mutating, especially once they got to the zombie stage. Creepy fuckers had chased him with anything they could get their hands on, running straight into the hail of bullets he’d killed them with. Bones looked up once he’d finished his exam. “She’s good to go Enterprise. Can you beam her to sickbay?”

“I don’t want to risk it without a transporter booster Doctor,” Scotty apologized. “The metal alloy’s interference isn’t as bad on that level, but with the three of you practically buried in it, it’s much worse.”

McCoy nodded and removed his own booster. “Bones, what are you doing?” Kirk demanded to know.

“I’ll walk out to the dig site. You can beam me up there,” he replied. “She needs to get to sickbay right now. We can’t wait long enough to carry her out of here, even if it wouldn’t aggravate her injuries.” 

Kirk ok’d the beam out and Reaper straightened up. He smirked at Spock and the Vulcan instantly realized why. There was only one way for him to get out of this cell, and that was for McCoy to throw him out. Strengthening his mental shields as he had no wish to receive any input from the doctor while he was in this place, Spock nodded for the doctor to proceed. 

As much as Reaper would like to really show Spock just what he was capable of, using the Vulcan to do it wasn’t the way he was. He’d never hurt a friend if he could avoid it. So instead of throwing the man up and out of the cell, he gently tossed him. It worked anyway and Sam was there to catch him. His twin was just as smart as he was and knew that someone would need to be there once the woman had been beamed out to catch Spock. Then he simply jumped out, landing next to the edge of the cell wall as gracefully as he had when he’d jumped down.

“The only thing left on this level is Carmack’s office,” Sam said.

Reaper nodded, knowing what she wasn’t saying. There was one other thing that the two of them had to do besides account for every person here, and that was taking care of certain vials in Carmack’s office. They didn’t need them to change someone, if they ever decided it was worth the risk. All they had to do was bite them, the way Reaper had Sam. The only thing the vials were was a chance for someone to start the plague all over again.

They swiftly made their way to the head idiot’s office, noting that the door had been ripped out of its frame. The room wasn’t much different from the last time Reaper had been there. It was still trashed; with things thrown all over the room, broken scientific equipment, not even the table was still standing. The only things that were even remotely intact were the carousel holding the seven remaining vials of C24 and Carmack’s desk.

As Dewy and Stormskies watched the entrance to the room, Spock watched the twins as they solemnly removed the seven vials. “This one’s cracked,” Sam said quietly. “It’s empty now.”

“These are all intact,” Reaper told her, setting the ones he’d removed from the carousel on a table he’d set back on its legs. He moved to check the old computer, hooking it up to a PADD that he’d added to his gear. Searching through the files was much easier than it would have been all those years ago. He’d learned a great deal about hacking computers over the last two centuries, and even more about how to create, find or destroy certain types of information.

Right now Reaper was looking for anything on C24. That wasn’t the only project that Carmack was in charge of, or involved in, but it was the one that scared Reaper the most. Thanks to his enhancements he speed read through the files in record time. There were numerous files. A few were on genetic manipulation on children. Reaper thought that it just figured that the sick fuck had been involved in developing the Augments. There were various new, (then) weapons designs, and information on the archeological dig. This he copied for Sam knowing that she had never lost her fascination with their adopted ancestors. The last file was the C24 project and that he destroyed with a sense of accomplishment.

Sam opened the six remaining vials that contained the C24 serum, carefully setting the caps down, each move slow and careful to ensure that nothing spilled. Then she pulled a small glass container out of the utility belt where she carried her extra ammunition. Each vial of C24 received a carefully measured dose of the liquid in her container. She didn’t so much as flinch when Reaper came up behind her and slipped something into her utility belt. “Is it working?” he asked.

“We’ll know in a minute,” she said as she returned the container to its pouch. The three of them watched as the vials all began to slowly turn cobalt blue. Once the process was finished Sam smiled at her brother. “Done,” she said with satisfaction.

Reaper quickly reached out and smashed all six vials down on the floor. “No more plague,” he said simply. Just then they were interrupted with a call from Huey and Louie.


	25. Chapter 25

Olduvai, Mars

“Doctor McCoy! We have found the last two members of the transport group! We chased them, but they went where we can not follow!” Huey called.

“Deep hole! Liquid air!” Louie cried. 

“Ah shit. They went down into the sewers again,” Reaper grumbled even as he brought his weapon around and headed towards the sewer entrance. “Everyone watch your footing. The last thing I want is to have to fish you out of a hole so that you don’t drown down there.”

“I was not aware that these scientists had gone into the sewers previously,” Spock said.

“That’s where Goat was bitten, remember?” Reaper said. He shook his head to clear that memory and got back to business. “I almost lost Portman to the holes in the floor. Sometimes I really think I should have let him drown. It would have been a much more fitting death than being hung upside down and bashed against the walls by a monster.”

“Eeeewww! Bones!” came Kirk’s reaction over the comm.

“Jim, the man was sick. Wanting to be cremated and have his ashes spread out on a nude beach so he could have naked people walking all over his dead body was the least of it; and that was exactly how he put it too. No one liked him and most of us really wanted an excuse to blow him away,” Reaper sighed. 

“The only reason we didn’t was because he was good at his job and had earned his way into the Hellfighters. That was the reason he didn’t have a handle id. No one liked him enough to give him a nickname.” And in a branch of service where everyone, including the newest recruit had a nickname it was a blatant announcement of just how much someone was detested by their teammates. They had reached the entrance to the sewers and Reaper gave the two Horta a pat on their crusty surface each. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about it for years and I think it was Portman’s death that pushed Sarge over the edge.”

“If he didn’t like Portman any more than the rest of you, why would that bother him?” Kirk asked.

“The monster dropped Portman when Sarge shot off that BFG for the first time. Portman could have been dead before he dropped, but there’s no guarantee of that and his clothes were scorched by Sarge’s friendly fire. I think he thought he was the one to kill Portman, personally I blame Thurman but it had to have hit Sarge hard. I really should have let the sick fuck drown.” Reaper turned to the Hortas. “Boys, transport back to the ship now. You can’t get down to where the last two are holed up, and there’s no sense in making you stick around. You’ve all done a great job. We’ll take care of these two.”

“What about Sarge, Doctor McCoy?” Dewy asked.

“Sarge won’t let me leave until either I’m dead or he is,” Reaper said flatly.

“Yes Doctor,” Huey replied, and sort of herded his brothers over to where they could be beamed out without disrupting the rest of the mission.

Reaper walked over to the hatch that the mutated scientists had left open. Unfortunately for a moment he forgot about his heightened senses, too caught up in remembering what it had been like down there before when Goat was infected, so he was caught by surprise by the smell. The material in the sewer had to have been composted down after two hundred years, but for him it might as well have been flushed down here an hour ago.

He hid his face in his uniform sleeve, his own scent washing away the stench of the sewer while Sam smirked a bit, took a deep breath and went down the ladder into the sewer. “Oh God that’s rank!” she said as she stepped off the ladder and into the water. “I’m definitely burning these clothes when I’m back on Enterprise.”

“No shit,” Reaper retorted and waved Stormskies and Spock down ahead of him. He’d take the rear guard for now. He’d made certain that Sam could hunt as well as he could centuries ago. It came in handy now and again; like the time they’d been stuck on a colony world with the food supplies running low and the only edible wildlife had been far too formidable for the civilian colonists to hunt, especially when they were weak from hunger. “This just keeps getting better and better,” Reaper grumbled to himself, as he lowered himself down the ladder.

The dark and damp tunnels were practically echoing with memories, but Reaper did his best to ignore them. Right now there was only the hunt – listening, searching the almost demonic creatures out before they could attack the helpless people between him and his sister. No one said a word. Sam and Reaper soon acclimated to the smell and were able to ignore one stench in favor of searching out another.

The tension of being in the dark, small tunnels that were still dripping with water, slogging through the waist deep water, stirring up muck and knowing that at any moment a monster could come and attack was ratcheting up Reaper’s nerves. He had always hated this part of the job, and knowing that Sarge, mutated and completely off his rocker, was still waiting out there in the dark was enough to fuel a century or two’s worth of nightmares. He was not looking forward to battling them once he blew Olduvai to hell and gone.

A whisper of sound, small waves lapping against the walls, and a slight flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye had Reaper turning and firing before even he had realized he had moved. “I thought you didn’t shoot at ghosts Bones,” Jim teased over his comm.

“I don’t,” Reaper said flatly. Then he walked over and sank his arm down into the muck, bringing up a tongue similar to the one nailed to the counter in the infirmary. “I really don’t think Mr. Spock would have liked to make the close acquaintance of this particular creature,” he snarked, holding the tongue up to his gun cam.

“Um, no,” Jim agreed, much to the amusement of Sam. The rest were simply glad for McCoy’s enhanced reflexes. A mutated Vulcan was not something to fool around with.

“Does it have any reproductive capability?” Sam asked. The last thing they needed was to find out that there were more of those things hanging around down here, just waiting to swarm them.  
Reaper traded his weapon for his tricorder, running it over the tongue. “No, but it does have something like a brain. I’m not sure how much higher cognitive abilities it might have had, but it was definitely capable of running on instinct on its own.” He tossed the remains back down into the water, returned his tricorder to his utility belt and reached to swung his weapon back around.

Of course, that was when the last two party crashers decided to attack. They came from both sides, seemingly almost desperate to get at Stormskies and Spock. They tried to throw Reaper and Sam aside, one of them reaching out past them to get to Spock. Reaper slammed his elbow down on that one, breaking the arm. He knew that it wouldn’t last, the creatures healed as quickly as he did, but it did get the creature to draw back the arm.

Then Reaper and Spock were fighting the monster together. They were usually so antagonistic towards each other, even if it was in fun, that he had never thought they would be capable of fighting in synch – but there they were. Reaper was taking care of the head, punching the mutation’s teeth in repeatedly. Spock was attacking the body, getting inside the reach of its arms, using a sharp piece of metal that he’d picked up somewhere. That left the creature’s arms, and Reaper solved that problem by shoving Spock to his knees and standing over him, taking the clawing on his own back.

Distantly Reaper could hear the ladies attacking the other monster, Stormskies’ growls and Sam’s cursing telling him more about their fight than a script could have. “RIP THE DAMNED THING’S HEART OUT SAM!” he yelled over his shoulder. It was the best advice he could give them because he didn’t hear any weapons fire. The creature had gotten inside their reach and the close quarters weren’t letting them shoot the thing.

Spock apparently decided to take his advice, because the Vulcan began striking their monster’s chest just under what appeared to be the ribcage with his make-shift shiv. This wasn’t like fighting Sarge. There it was more regulated, as much as a free for all between two highly trained men can be, while this was just a plain down and dirty school yard brawl with deadly intent. Unfortunately Spock couldn’t hit fast enough to do more than piss it off.

When Reaper realized that, he quickly grabbed the shiv from Spock and used it himself to gut the damned thing. Spock was quick on the uptake and followed the move, pulling out the creature’s heart. As the monster fell away from them, Reaper pulled his gun around from where it hung off his shoulder and shot it in the head. Then he looked at Spock, who was beginning to stand. The blood and black blob covered Vulcan calmly offered Reaper the heart he held in his hand.

McCoy couldn’t help it; he had to laugh at the picture Spock made. It was the first laugh he’d had in far too long, and if it came out a little hysterical well, who could blame him? Besides, the sight of the utterly dignified Vulcan covered in muck, blood and the black nodules that signified the presence of C24 was pretty damned funny. He turned away just in time to walk right into the head smack Sam was giving him. “Rip out the heart,” she said. “Well duh.” And then she stuck her tongue out at him. At this point he simply gave up trying to contain himself. He leaned against the wall and grabbed his ribs, roaring with laughter.


	26. Chapter 26

Olduvai, Mars

“Let’s go get you cleaned up,” McCoy chuckled, once he calmed down a little. The laughter had released a lot of the stress that he’d been building up. It hadn’t touched his anger at Sarge or what had happened here all those years ago, but the stress of knowing that there were other people at Olduvai and that he would have to take care of the problem was gone. 

Now there was just Sarge left to deal with and he could be dealt with later. He’d already waited two centuries to take care of that problem. An hour wouldn’t make any difference right now. Spock and Stormskies’ health and safety took precedence over that matter. There was a locker room with shower facilities near by and that was where they went. McCoy wanted to make certain that neither Spock nor Stormskies had been injured during the short fight, especially Spock as he was covered in contaminated blood.

Each of the Grimm twins had gotten one of the showers running and shoved their respective partners under the water, much to the evident distaste of both the desert bred Vulcan and the feline Meroraw. Absorbed in making sure that neither had been infected by their exposure to the C24 in the blood of the two monsters they had killed in the sewers, the twins made a mistake. They were not paying attention to their senses and that allowed Sarge to sneak up close. He crawled along the ceiling crawl space, and when he’d reached the showers, he swiftly reached down and grabbed Reaper by the chin and neck, and dragged him up into the space between the ceiling and the rock tunnel. 

Reaper dropped his tricorder, clawing at the mutated hand and kicking his legs in a futile effort to prevent his capture. He was dragged along the crawl space on his back and his equipment harness holding his weapon, extra ammunition, med kit and other sundries as well as the back of his blue uniform shirt was scraped off of him at the high rate of sped Sarge was traveling. Grabbing at the walls, ceiling or floor for something to hold onto proved futile as well. He could only hope that Sam would find him quickly.

Sam and Spock, hearing the commotion, (Reaper’s loud kicking, muffled cursing, Sarge’s laughter and Stormskies’ yowls,) raced out of their shower stall, grabbing their weapons. By the time they’d reached the stall where McCoy had been checking Stormskies for injuries he and Sarge were long gone. Stormskies, who looked the very definition of a drowned cat, was attempting to claw her way into the hole in the ceiling where McCoy had disappeared.

“Don’t!” Sam ordered, and gently tugged Stormskies down from the ceiling. “Spock, Stormskies, beam back to Enterprise. All of the civilians are accounted for. We even managed to save one. In this situation, that’s a miracle.”

“We have not yet completed our mission,” Spock stated, and pulled on his rinsed out silk thermal under clothes. Fortunately his uniform had taken the brunt of the damage caused by the contaminated blood. Stormskies clearly made her feelings known, moving to stand slightly behind and off to the side of her superior officer. They both had no desire to return to the Enterprise without Doctor McCoy.

Sam chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, trying to remember if there was anything in either of their cultures that would explain why she was ordering them back. She found one in the honor codes they both had coming from warrior, (former warrior in Spock’s case) cultures. She looked them both in the eyes to reinforce her words. “Sarge is the only one left. Unlike the civilians, he is a family matter.”

Stormskies’ posture slumped, understanding the difference. Although she was a revolutionary where her own people were concerned, she really did not wish to change things very much. She merely wished for her people to recognize that some situations called for group hunting such as this. However, Sam’s explanation turned this from a group hunt to an honor hunt, and that was always undertaken only by those who were involved. 

Spock nodded, the gesture full of respect and retrieved the rest of his equipment. In the Vulcan culture a person who was ill, such as with mental disorders, was the responsibility of that person’s family, especially if the only way to deal with the madness was a fight to the death. There was no question that Sarge was mentally ill, or that the Grimm twins were the closest thing he had to family now.

“Hit the sonics, then quarantine yourselves for the next three hours just in case. Enterprise, two to beam up,” Sam ordered. Once the sparkles of dematerialization had vanished, Sam jumped up catching the edges of the hole in the ceiling and pulled herself through. “I’m coming John,” she said, knowing that everyone could hear her, including her brother and Sarge over John’s comm. 

The ironic thing was that it was now her turn to chase after her twin when he was being threatened by the same monster who had stolen her from his side as he had gone through the C24’s death coma all those decades ago. The same monster who had made it impossible for her to do anything other than join John in his immortality by breaking her back over two centuries ago. All three of them were bound together by this place and the horrors that had happened here. It was fitting that they should face down Sarge together here, and she had a good idea of where he was taking John.

 

Bridge, Enterprise

 

“Mr. Spock and Ensign Stormskies have reported to medical Captain,” Uhura said quietly. An almost unnatural hush hovered over the bridge. Normally a place of quiet, routine conversation, (punctuated by short amounts of explosions and yelling when trouble came knocking) Uhura was sure that she could have heard the proverbial pin drop on the carpet at the moment. No one wanted to give Sarge the satisfaction of hearing them fret over Doctor McCoy’s fate.

Over the last year Uhura had begun to think of McCoy as a friend, an older one she could go to for advice or to relax with when being among the more hormonal members of their young crew got to be too much for her. Now that she knew the key to his past, a lot of things made sense that had puzzled her before. McCoy was an officer and a gentleman in the oldest sense of the phrase. 

If you’d screwed up, McCoy would verbally rip you to pieces, making sure that you never made the same mistake again, while he patched up whatever you broke with gentle hands. He never, not even when he was in one of his worst moods, ever mistreated a woman or a child. In fact, Uhura had seen several occasions where he’d prevented such mistreatment, stepping in to take the abuse on himself before ‘thrashing’, as he’d put it, the abuser.

McCoy regularly used such terms, causing his speech to be a combination of modern English and almost ancient phrases. She’d heard him call himself ‘nothing but an old sawbones’ and every spaceship he happened to be on was called a ‘tin can’ at least once. Uhura had been forced to look those phrases up in her historical texts. A ‘saw bones’ was a term that was over 300 years old that meant a country doctor – one who was not particularly adept at high society, and ‘tin cans’ hadn’t been used to store food in for at least a century! 

At the time she’d thought that perhaps he was one of those who romanticized the past, deliberately sprinkling such old terms into his speech patterns. Now she knew that he’d picked them up from having lived through many of the years when those terms had been used in every day speech. Uhura kept her eyes on the life signs for Doctor McCoy and Doctor Grimm, praying that they would survive the upcoming fight.

“Thank you Lieutenant,” Kirk murmured. It was all that Jim could do to keep his composure after Reaper’s killcam showed that he had dropped his weapon and the rest of his gear. Bones was now out there all alone with that crazy, mutated ex-CO of his, and he couldn’t even say anything to encourage his friend without Sarge hearing him as well. And the last thing he wanted was for Sarge to know that Samantha Grimm was on her way to rescue her little brother.

Kirk would have teasing material for years over that one. He knew perfectly well that Samantha Grimm was only two minutes older than Bones, but the very idea of the ex-Special Forces soldier being rescued by his big sister was far too funny for him to not tease his friend about. He’d keep it strictly between the two of them of course. He was reckless, not stupid. Bones would have Jim at his mercy the next time something went wrong. It was a fact of Jim Kirk’s life that something always went wrong sooner or later, and Bones would have no trouble at all using every medical excuse there was to make his life miserable.

Up on the viewscreen, Sam’s killcam showed that she had reached Reaper’s equipment. Without slowing she reached down, picked up the belt it was all attached to and slung the broken belt over her shoulder, attaching the broken ends to her own belt one handed. She didn’t bother with the remains of McCoy’s shredded uniform shirt. 

“Doctor Grimm, he seems,” Uhura began.

“I know where Sarge is taking John,” Sam interrupted. She was absolutely certain. Sarge was insane, that was true, but there was still a lot of the Marine that he had once been left in the way he thought. John had told her a lot about who Sarge had been before Olduvai when they had both been grieving the loss of their friends and respective chosen families. The man had been pure alpha male. He wouldn’t be able to accept that his once second in command had fought him to a standstill, forcing him into exile here in Olduvai for two centuries. He’d have convinced himself that it was a fluke, something that had only happened because his body had been mutating, shifting into his current form.

Sarge had already begun to punish Reaper for his new loyalties by killing and eating F’rik’. Now he would want to finish Reaper’s punishment by beating him to death, even if it wasn’t really possible. Sam still occasionally had nightmares about Sarge shooting The Kid point blank in the throat. Sam reached the Ark chamber and everyone could hear inhuman roars of rage coming from the inside.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: I am sorry that this chapter is so short, but it is what everyone has been waiting for. The next one should be the last, tying up all of the loose ends. If there is something that anyone wishes to see specifically, R&R and I’ll try to work it in.

Ark Chamber, Olduvai

John ‘Reaper/Bones’ Grimm had finally had enough. To say that this mission had been an emotional rollercoaster was the understatement of the century. The memories of the previous times he had been at Olduvai, the stress and fear of leading green children with no real combat experience into a situation that had given him, a hardened combat vet, nightmares for over two centuries, going in to rescue idiot civilians knowing that there would be none left alive to rescue – but hoping anyway, and above all else dealing with his emotions regarding his former commander and friend had strained his emotional control to the breaking point.

While he had found a few moments of relief from the pressure, his laughing fit at Spock to name one, it really hadn’t been enough and none had touched his anger at Sarge, an anger that had lain dormant like a volcano, nothing visible on the surface but slowly building pressure below since he’d found out that the man was still alive. When Sarge casually threw him into the wall on the opposite side of the Ark chamber, after dragging him along like a child’s toy, John lost both his temper and control of his instincts over this final insult. 

Everyone who had ever met Leonard McCoy would say that the man was someone who frequently lost his temper. He yelled, ranted and was well known for being able to strip the hide off of anyone, regardless of rank, in a matter of seconds. They didn’t know about Reaper. They didn’t know about Olduvai, or how he’d been changed there. The fact that he never threw a punch at anyone, seeming to avoid physical confrontations even in the midst of a brawl, was to them only to be expected. McCoy was a doctor, a healer, and would never deliberately harm anyone. They didn’t know that it was because he knew that he was capable of putting his fist through most solid metal walls. He’d had nightmares of what his fists could do to a frail human body. They don’t understand that McCoy loses his temper – so that Reaper WON’T.

Reaper hit the wall and used it to launch himself back at Sarge, never even noticing the large dent in the metal alloy or that he was yelling. This time he held nothing back as he threw a punch at Sarge’s head. It didn’t really hurt Sarge, even if Reaper had broken the mutant’s jaw and shattered teeth, but he was too far gone in his rage to realize it. The blow spun them apart and Sarge shook his head, his jaw already healed but the blow had disoriented him for a moment.

Before he could finish Reaper was back, throwing kicks and punches, gouging at Sarge’s flesh as much as he dealt out concussive damage. This was not the controlled but lethal fight of professional soldier against professional soldier that they’d fought before. This was a battle to the death between two immortal predators. Reaper used his smaller body like a hammer, aiming for Sarge’s one weak spot – his head, over and over again, absorbing the blows that Sarge dealt out almost without noticing them. 

Goat had killed himself by literally bashing his own brains out against the observation window because he’d known that it was the only way he could stop himself. Mac had died when Stahl had ripped his head from his shoulders. John was sure that had been an instinctive reaction for both of them, attacking one of the only two weak spots a mutant had, the head and heart. Reaper used that knowledge now by focusing his attacks on Sarge’s head. Sarge would never let him get near his heart, so Reaper didn’t even try. Sarge finally managed to grab Reaper’s ankle as Reaper’s boot scraped the side of his head, and threw Reaper up to the second floor of the Ark chamber. 

This side of the Ark portal was even more damaged than the one the two men had torn up before, and Reaper crashed over the railing and into the remains of one of the few free standing computer banks. Being completely impaled through his chest on a piece of metal debris, Reaper didn’t notice Sam edge around the corner of the entrance that Sarge had dragged him through. “You son of a bitch!” Reaper snarled.

The bridge crew watched in horror through Sam’s killcam as Reaper pulled himself up off of the metal bar while Sarge laughed. He jumped up to the second level. “You always were soft Reaper.”

“And you’re a fuck-up who shot his own men!” Reaper growled. He ripped the metal bar off the debris and attacked. He swung the bar, but it was only a feint. As Sarge grabbed it, he jumped and punched the back of Sarge’s head.

“Great, now they’re going to beat on each other,” Sam muttered as she tried to get a clear shot at Sarge.

Reaper started at the sound of her voice, and Sarge grabbed him by the leg and threw him onto the edge of the balcony, breaking his back. “It’s my turn,” he snarled as he kicked Sarge’s teeth in. Sarge stumbled back, and Reaper back flipped down to the ground floor. “You got to beat on him earlier!” Sarge jumped down after him. 

“I didn’t beat on him. I ripped him to shreds,” Sam called back. She was trying to get Sarge’s attention away from her brother. They needed a distraction, and fortunately for them her defiance worked. Sarge turned and roared at Sam, taking the remark as an insult, making him a perfect target for both twins. They both struck a killing blow in the same instant. Sam shot him through the heart with The Kid’s weapons, using the last of those bullets, and gaining at least a small bit of ironic justice for the young man that neither of them had the chance to really get to know.

Throughout his fight with Reaper, Sarge had never fully turned his back on his onetime second, but when Sarge turned to face Sam, Reaper had a clear shot at the back of Sarge’s head. Jumping up just enough to give him the necessary amount of height, Reaper slammed his bare fist through the back of Sarge’s head and out the front. Distantly, as they fell down and Reaper was left kneeling on the corpse, Reaper could hear himself snap, “Ammo check!” If he’d been in any shape to do so, he’d have smacked himself. It wasn’t like he was back with the Hellfighters taking out an insurgent base. With Sarge dead, there were no more monsters to fight. They had won.

“I’m out,” Sam freely admitted. “You’ll have to check your own rifle though. I’m not about to mess around with your baby.” She put just the right amount of teasing into her words, and John reacted very predictably.

“It’s not my baby!” John retorted, exasperated at the long time continuing argument. “Taking care of your equipment means that when you need it; it will be ready to use. He stood up and walked over to his sister. “I would think that you’d be glad that I take care of my things. My rifle wouldn’t have been mission ready if I hadn’t taken care of it.”

Sam smirked and handed over Reaper’s rifle and utility belt. “John, it’s over two hundred years old. Anyone else would have gotten rid of it a long time ago. It’s not supposed to be mission ready. It’s an antique – and yet you still have it.”

“I don’t keep it for sentimental reasons. Sooner or later we’re going to run into our ‘adopted ancestors’ and when we do, I want to be prepared,” he snapped as he grabbed his rifle from her. He didn’t let himself look at the rifle. If he did, his anxiety would show and Sam had enough blackmail on him to last the next two centuries. He didn’t need to give her anymore. Besides, he was pretty sure nothing bad had happened in the short amount of time it hadn’t been in his possession.

“You think that we’re going to run into the aliens who colonized Mars at a minimum of over 10,000, and more likely 100,000 years ago?” Jim interrupted their bickering. “Gee Bones, I never knew you were that ambitious about our five year mission. I wish I’d known about it. I could have helped you with the research!”

“Just for that you’re getting a full physical when I get back you ungrateful little brat!” McCoy snapped.

Jim just laughed, having heard a thousand variations of the threat over the last four years. He was also relieved that the most dangerous part of this mission was over with. A few tasks were left, but most of those he could handle for his friend. Bones deserved to relax with his sister and daughter while they were on board. “Get yourselves cleaned up and I’ll have Chekov beam you down some clean scrubs. That gunk is NOT touching the Enterprise’s clean decks!” Kirk ordered.

“And you think I’m sentimental,” Bones groused to Sam, as he led the way back to the showers.


End file.
